


An Alien Named Mercutio Part 1: Redux

by vinniebatman



Series: An Alien Named Mercutio [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Awesome Darcy Lewis, BAMF Darcy Lewis, Darcy Lewis Is a Good Bro, Darcy Lewis is the fandom bicycle and I love it, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-05-02 04:59:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14537193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinniebatman/pseuds/vinniebatman
Summary: The course of true love never did run smooth, and destiny can be a fickle bitch.  But against all odds, Skurge and Darcy meet, and their lives will never be the same.  It's a strange tale involving sprained ankles, international cuisine, douche bag guards, cool guards, and BFFs.Note: this is a rewrite of the story "An Alien Name Mercutio."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beetle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beetle/gifts).
  * Inspired by [An Alien Named Mercutio](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12094257) by [vinniebatman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinniebatman/pseuds/vinniebatman). 



> The thing is, I found myself at a sort of crossroads, needing to make a decision. As it turns out, I love this story, but I didn't like it. After a multi-year absence from writing, I felt this wasn't up to snuff, that it lacked something, something indefinable. Part of it is due to the fact that while I had the plot in mind, characters and plot items were added along the way, things that should have been referenced earlier rather than later. And there was too much telling, not enough showing. There were scenes I ended too shortly, other scenes I want to change aspects of as I got to know these characters again. And there are scenes I'm adding. As such, I am reworking it. Some parts will be almost exactly the same, while others will be different, and I'm adding a few scenes here and there. The big difference will be the addition of a section between “An Alien Named Mercutio” and “A Hero Named Skurge”, showing Darcy and Skurge's lives after they separate but before they meet up again.
> 
> A part of me wants to just replace the chapters already posted, but that seems like cheating, because the comments and bookmarks for it would be for a slightly different story. So, I am adding this as a new story in the series. I hope you enjoy what I've done.
> 
> Also, just a general warning for new readers: MASSIVE amounts of hand waving. I love Karl Urban, and I love Darcy, so this is what you lucky bastards get. Also, major handwaving about Asgardians, etc. because in the comics, Skurge weighs 1100 pounds and that just won't work in this story.

Rain fell from the dark sky in heavy sheets, cascading over Darcy and dripping from her fingertips.  The wind was bitterly cold as it lashed against her face, sharp against her icy skin as she quaked, half frozen.  From her perch on the cliff, she could hear the ocean waves as they crashed below, powerful and deafening in the evening storm.  The gusts of wind pushed her body toward the edge, a precarious situation that was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. Heart pounding, she looked down; despite the dark, she could see her naked toes at the edge, though the roiling sea below was hidden in the shadows.  Darcy couldn’t see how far down it was to the water, couldn’t see the rocks the waves broke upon.

Lighting cracked through the air, jolting Darcy from her reverie.  Amid the cold and dark, a sense of unease grew, an instinctual alarm.  She glanced over her shoulder, finding only more darkness. But there was something behind her in that darkness, something hunting her; she could feel it.  Darcy turned back to the edge and look down once again. _There’s no way to go but down._

Darcy moved forward an inch, curling her toes over the sodden earth.  Despite the rocks and crashing waves below, it was the only way to go.  As she stared down into the dark, another thought occurred: _I’m not afraid._  She wasn’t afraid of the fall, wasn’t leery of the edge; she wanted to jump.  For all the danger at her back and tumult below, the water wasn’t a last resort; it was was where she belonged.  There was something down there, something that beckoned her. Whatever it was that called to her, it wouldn’t let her get hurt. It would keep her safe, protect her.  A noise, an exhalation that was somehow louder than the waves and rain and thunder, sounded from behind her. _Time to choose._

Darcy shut her eyes.  Taking a deep breath, she stepped off the cliff.

* * *

When Darcy awoke, she first became aware of just how cold her leg was where it sat, propped up on the edge of the bathtub.  Wincing at the stiffness in her knee, and preparing for the pain sure to follow, she bent her leg and rested her foot on the bottom of the tub.  Her ankle fairly screamed with pain, but at least she was warm again. Submerged in the small bathtub, the water reached her earlobes as steam curled up from the bathwater. The almost-too-hot bath soothed her aching muscles and banished the lingering cold from her bones; it was a blissful comfort after a long day.  Even though she'd only been awake for a handful hours, they had been long and trying. Though she hadn’t spent much time outside of the research station, any time spent out on the ice fields seemed interminable and endless, dragging on and on.

As soon as she had gotten back to the research station, she had marched (well, limped) straight to her small, shared bathroom and into the even smaller bathtub.  The bathroom wasn’t much, style-wise, just a small metal closet with the basics. But the walls kept the steam in and gave Darcy some much-appreciated quiet. Soon after waking from her doze, the quiet was interrupted by a knock from the door that led to Jane’s bedroom.

“Noooooo,” Darcy whined. “If you need to pee, Jane, you’ll have to wait; I am never leaving this bathtub.”

The pocket door slid open a few inches; Jane stuck her arm into the bathroom, a red and pink travel mug in hand.  “I bring an offering,” she singsonged.

Darcy sighed.  “Very well, you may approach.”

Jane opened the door fully and set the drink on the counter, then hobbled inside using one of her crutches.  She quickly shut the door behind her, trapping the heat inside.

“So, warmed up yet?” she asked.  Picking up the travel mug from the counter, Jane gingerly lowered herself onto the small bench beside the tub.

“Getting there.”

“Here, this’ll help.”  Jane offered Darcy the travel mug, smiling.

“Coffee?”

“With Baileys in it,” Jane replied, waggling her eyebrows.  She paused, then spoke again. “Well, technically, it’s more like Baileys with a splash of coffee.”

“Nice!”  Darcy grinned and accepted the cup, hurrying to pull her arm back under the water.  With just her hands sticking out, she opened the mug and took a swig. Heat filled her mouth and traveled down to her stomach, causing of moan of delight to bubble up from her chest.  “And that is why you’re my favorite, Janie. This will definitely help with the cold, though not so much with the soreness.”

“No kidding,” Jane muttered.  “That guy looked fucking _huge_.”

Darcy merely closed her eyes and nodded, enjoying the warmth.  After a few moments, Jane spoke again, her voice tight and anxious.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Darce.”

Opening her eyes, Darcy frowned.  “I’m fine.”

Jane started chewing on her thumb nail, gazing at the younger woman with a furrowed brow.  “I know. But I was in the security office trying to convince them to drive me out there when Daniel called it in, saying he shot some Asgardian who was attacking you.  Scared the crap outta me, Darce.”

Darcy winced.  “‘Attacked’ is _way_ too strong a word.  In fact, I may have kind of totally overreacted and needlessly kicked space dude in the junk.”

Jane grinned wryly, huffing out a ghost of a laugh.  “I know you're fine _now_ , and I know you can handle yourself.  But you’re my best friend; I worry about you.”

Darcy smiled and reached out of the water.  She squeezed Jane’s knee, leaving a watery handprint behind.  “Sap.”

As Jane laughed, another voice broke in, this time coming from the door to Darcy’s room.

“Hey Darcy, can I come in?” Daniel called.

“Dude, I’m bathing!” Darcy yelled.  

“Dude, you know I honestly don’t want to see anything you've got.”

_So much for peace and quiet._ “Fine!”  

The door opened and Daniel Taylor, one of the security guards, squeezed into the bathroom.  One advantage to working for Stark Industries was that, even in a research station in Antarctica, the digs were pretty nice.  Most of the rooms even had attached bathrooms instead of some communal monstrosity down the hall. But there was still only so much space, and three people (particularly when one was a tall, broad shouldered and well-muscled man) was officially too many to squeeze into the small bathroom.

“So, who’s on first?” Darcy asked.

Daniel grinned, his smile bright and dimpled against the dark umber of his skin and black goatee.  He held out a travel mug. “I come bearing a gift and a question.”

Darcy nodded her chin toward the mug.  “What is it?”

“Baileys and cocoa.”

Darcy once again nodded, like a queen would to a subject.  “Acceptable. You may proceed with your questioning.”

Chuckling, Daniel leaned against the sink cabinet.  “Well, the guy woke up.”

Darcy and Jane’s heads quickly snapped over to look at Daniel.  “Seriously?” they asked, their voices overlapping.

“Didn’t Stark design those rounds to take out Thor?” Darcy continued before drinking down the last of her “coffee.” She handed the empty mug to Jane, and took the cocoa from Daniel.

“He did.  But medical weighed the guy after taking off his armor. He weighed almost 260 kilos,” Daniel said, shaking his head in amazement.

“Ah yes, kilos.” Darcy nodded sagely before she looked at Jane.  “And that equals what in American?”

Jane laughed while Daniel just grinned.

“Hey, polisci grad here,” Darcy said, shrugging.  “I never really needed to learn measurement conversions and stuff.”

“Very true,” Jane conceded.  “It means he weighs close to 570 pounds.”

Darcy’s eyebrows shot up.  “Sweet zombie Jesus, no wonder my back is sore,” she muttered, taking a healthy swig of the doctored cocoa.  “So he’s definitely Asgardian, right?”

“Oh yeah, they're pretty sure—” Daniel started.

Jane scoffed.  “Bullshit. While Asgardians do have increased bone and muscle density, based on the guy’s size, if he were Asgardian, he’d be closer to 400 pounds, not 600.  He’s something else.”

Processing _that_ information, Darcy gave Jane a wide, lecherous grin.  “Well, you would be the woman to ask, considering how much time you’ve spent under _and_ on top of an Asgardian.”

Jane laughed, her cheeks flushing pink while Daniel chortled and clapped his hands.  Darcy shut her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall, enjoying the warmth spreading from the drinks.   _Half drunk in a warm bath and making my friends laugh: this is the life._

“Well, they’re going to run his DNA, see what they can figure out,” Daniel finally said, mirth still lurking in his voice.  “So I guess we’ll know for sure after that.”

Darcy hummed in response before pausing.   _Wait…._ She frowned and opened her eyes, turning to look at Daniel.  “Didn’t you say you had a question?”

Daniel’s typically genial facial expression split wide with an excited grin.   _Well, that’s not good._ Still smiling wide, Daniel spoke.  “Yeah, when he woke up, he wanted to know why ‘hot’ means ‘cold’ on Midgard.  Any ideas on that one, Darce?”

Darcy’s frowned as Jane started to laugh.   _Hot?_  

After a few seconds, the memory suddenly clicked, and her face flamed red.  Instead of replying, Darcy sank down until the water covered the top of her head, leaving only the hand that clutched the mug above the water line.

_Fuck my life_.

* * *

 

**Three Hours Earlier**

_“Oh no not I, I will survive_

_Oh as long as I know how to love,_

_I know I'll stay alive!”_

Darcy wasn’t great with measurements; to her, the abstract concepts of “100 feet” or “a quarter mile” didn’t make much sense.  She couldn’t visualize it without having a frame of reference, like “half the distance of a football field” or “one city block”. Of course, those references were useless in Antarctica, since everything was just an endless white nothing as far as the eye could see.  So Darcy judged the distance by songs. It was one full rendition of “Bohemian Rhapsody” (including the musical refrains), “Safety Dance”, “Like a Virgin,” and “I Will Survive” from the research station to the antenna, with Daniel occasionally chiming in from the front of the snowmobile.

She was stuck in Antarctica indefinitely, and it was Jane’s fault.  Jane’s antenna was meant to replicate some of the energy signals generated by the Bifrost, giving the scientist a better understanding of how it functioned.  The downside was that its energy could, theoretically, attract the attention of aliens, a prospect that alarmed all sources of funding. So with no takers and no alternative, Jane had taken her research to Tony Stark, and they’d ended up in Antarctica.   _Fucking Antarctica_.

By the time Darcy finished belting out Gloria Gaynor, they had reached the hill the antenna sat atop. Daniel slowly circled as much of the hill as he could on the snowmobile, while Darcy kept her on the snow, looking for any kind of disturbance.  

“So, what do you think?” he finally asked.

Darcy shrugged.  “Honestly, I don't see anything; it all looks the same to me.”

“Should we check the darkside?” Daniel asked, the hesitant note in his voice plainly conveying his displeasure at the idea.

Darcy looked up the hill and groaned.  For the most part, the monitoring of the antenna was done from the research station. But last night, Jane’s system had freaked out, showing serious indications of Bifrost activity.  Much of the hill could be easily circled on the snowmobile, but the backside was comprised of rocky terrain that dropping into a narrow valley. The hill’s incline was also too steep for two riders to drive up the front of the hill on the snowmobile.  The backside would have to be checked on foot.

Darcy groaned.  “Fuck. Yeah, we should.  Stupid Jane’s stupid bleepy machine.”

“Stupid Antarctica,” Daniel added with a chuckle, turning the snowmobile off.  After two months, he was used to Darcy’s good-natured grumbling. “I’d rather be in the security office watching last night’s game.”

“Or home with your family. But at least Stark makes it worth your while to go to the ass-end of nowhere for three months.”

“No kidding,” Daniel agreed.  Standing, he got off the snowmobile.  “They even put the money into a trust for Lena so we wouldn’t have to deal with the paperwork.”

“See, that’s what I love about Tony Stark,” Darcy said as she climbed off the snowmobile. “He knows he’s a pain in the ass, but he owns up to it and makes sure it’s all worth our while.”

“Plus there’s all that superhero, world-saving stuff,” Daniel added, moving to the sled they’d hauled out.

“Eh, yeah, that too.”

Darcy joined him him by the sled, the two of them retrieving their packs and pulling them on.

As soon as the weight settled on her shoulders, Darcy had to lean forward a few inches to counter to heavy pack.  “Dude, why does it have to be so heavy?” Darcy whined. “Oh yeah, that’s right:, we need to have a week’s supply of stuff in case Antarctica tries to kill us!  Although I guess I shouldn’t whine; you’re carrying all of the heavy stuff.”

Daniel looked down at her and laughed.  Darcy couldn’t see anything behind his scarf, goggles and jacket hood, but she could easily imagine his smile.

“Shall we?” Daniel asked, nodding his head toward the antenna as he offered his arm.  Darcy grinned and took his arm. Without further discussion, they began trudging up the slope, Darcy’s pants _zhush_ ing in time with her steps. _Stupid Jane’s stupid sprained ankle_ , she thought.  Needing a distraction from the cold and the hike, Darcy resumed her chatter.

“Daniel, my dude, you are the only other good thing about being in Antarctica.”

Daniel let go of her arm and threw his arm over her shoulders.  “Thanks, Darce,” he said, giving her a quick squeeze. “You're pretty cool too.  So what's the other good thing about Antarctica?”

“The food.”

Shaking his head, Daniel laughed. But he didn't deny it. _None can refute the food prowess of Inge-Lise, long may she reign._

“What about, how did you say it?  ‘Romero’s glorious buns of steel’?”

Darcy allowed her mind to drift, imagining Rafael Romero, one of that station’s security guards.  Tall and handsome, he was officially her station crush. “Okay, so there are three good things about being here, except he’s in Argentina right now.  But I have you! And you are, like, my Antarctica bro of bros, the Mushu to my Mulan, the Abbot to my Costello,” she panted.

“Same, Lewis.”

“And it’s not just ‘cause you’re just a generally nice and awesome dude, which you are,” she continued, huffing.  “A lot of people just treat me I’m the extra toe on Jane's foot of science; there, but unnecessary and in the way.”

Daniel barked out a laugh before speaking.  “Well that’s just because they’ve never seen Jane work.  Without you, her research wouldn’t get done as quickly or efficiently.  And Jane would probably go full mad scientist.”

Darcy looked up at him and smiled behind her scarf.  “Aww, thanks bud. You, Sir, are an awesome sundae with a kick ass cherry on top!”

Daniel laughed again, giving Darcy a chance to catch her breath before speaking again.  “So, any updates from Michael or Lena?”

She could hear the smile in Daniel’s voice as he began talking about his husband and daughter.  “Michael and I spoke yesterday. He applied for the job you told me about.”

Darcy pumped her fist.  If Michael got the job, he would be a part of Stark Industries research division, likely assigned to the Cherry Springs research facility in Pennsylvania.  Daniel would likely follow his husband to the research facility, which just so happened to be where Jane and Darcy would be staying for _at least_ six months, reviewing results once they left Antarctica.

“He got a call back for a second interview yesterday,” Daniel continued.  “Supposed to happen next week.”

“Cool cool.  And little Miss Lena?” she panted out.

Daniel chuckled.  “Well, Lena’s has learned some new words.  Her new favorite word is apparently ‘shit,’ so my brother’s in serious trouble.”

“Ah, toddlers: the parrots of the human world.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”  

As they continued up the hill, Darcy surveyed the landscape.  The sun was low in the sky, the cold breeze sending the snow twirling into the air.  Antarctica was stark, but beautiful. Darcy could appreciate it’s barren beauty; it was pretty peaceful at the bottom of the Earth.  It felt fresh and clean, untouched. _Like life never is._

Daniel’s radio squawked at them, breaking the peace.  He fell out of step and pulled the radio from his pouch.  He stopped to answer, but Darcy kept walking. _With Daniel’s stupid long legs, he’ll catch up in no time._

As soon as she crested the slope of the hill, Darcy stopped to catch her breath.  Panting behind her ski mask, her heart was racing. _Well, if nothing else, all the snow hiking will give me an amazing ass._  Once her breath had finally calmed, she turned back to wave at Daniel.  He gave her a thumbs up and slowly started moving toward her, his focus on the walkie talkie.  Looking down the backside of the hill, she considered her course of action. The hill led down into a small, craggy valley, boulders scattered about and covered with snow.  She had hoped that there would be some clear indication as to whether or not the Bifrost had touched down the prior night. Her eyes swept the small valley slowly, carefully.  Nothing seemed different, but something was off, something out of sorts. _Like when Jane moves something on my desk_.  

After a few more moments of consideration, she knew.   _Well fuck, I have to go down there._  Dropping her head back, she yelled up at the sky.  “Damn it, Jim!”

She gave herself five seconds to pout and grumble, then began trudging down the slope.  Her eyes slowly swept back and forth, searching. _Oh look, nothing!  And if you look to your right, more nothing!_    _And if you look further down, another load of —_ As she neared the base, her heart started being faster.  But this time, it was from excitement, not exertion. Something was indeed different, and she could finally see what it was.  

At the bottom of the valley, there was a large, circular depression on the ground, surrounded by snow drifts.  The area inside the circle was covered with only a few inches of snow. From the hill, it had all looked the same.  But up close, she could see the differing levels of snowfall. Darcy kept walking until she reached the outer edge of the circle. Squatting down between two boulders, she brushed away the thin layer of snow.  Her breath caught in her chest; beneath the layer of snow was the distinctive patterning of a Bifrost scar.

“Okay, so that’s officially a something,” she muttered, grinning.  Standing, she grabbed her radio, her gloved fingers slipping on the dials.  Finally, it shrieked to life.

“Snowman, this is Bandit. Come in, Snowman. I found something, over!”

Jane’s voice crackled through the walkie talkie.   _“Where, Darcy?”_

Darcy didn’t answer.

_“Darcy?”_

“New phone, who dis, over?” she finally hinted.

_“Fine.”_ Jane’s groan was audible through the static. _“Bandit, this is Snowman.  What’s your 10-4 good buddy? Over.”_

Darcy grinned, allowing herself a quick wiggle of victory.  “Well Snowman, I found a Bifrost scar near the antenna, over.”  

“ _Really?! Oh my god, that’s amazing! Okay, uh, let me think.  Just avoid the Bifrost scar until I can get out there to take some readings, okay?  Over.”_

“Okay, but you’ll have to bring someone to haul your busted ass around; it’s on the darkside of the hill. Over”

_“Well, fuck. Okay, I’ll figure something out.”_

“Over,” Darcy prompted.

_“Over.”_

“Might I suggest an old-school litter carried by the muscliest of muscle heads?  In skin-tight snow suits?”

_“Hah! You forgot to say ‘over,’and yes, I agree.  Okay, I’ll head out right away; see you in a bit, over.”_

“That's a 10-4, good buddy, over and out.”

Turning off her radio, she tucked it back into the pouch strapped to her chest.  Grinning, she turned away and looked up the hill. Daniel was hiking down toward her, radio in hand.

“Dude, I found something!” Darcy yelled, breaking into another jig, this one involving pelvic thrusts.  “I am totally gonna beg Inge-Lise to bake us something chocolatey tonight!”

Daniel's laugh echoed across the snow.  The happy sound had barely faded before he suddenly tensed, reaching for his weapon as he broke into a run.  

_Ah crap._ Darcy’s stomach plummeted. _That’s not good._

“Darcy! Get away from there!” he shouted.

_Run,_ her mind screamed, _Don't turn around, just fucking run!_  That split second of shock seemed eternal; as she swallowed hard, her body finally began to obey.  Darcy raised her leg, ready to run, when a heavy hand with an iron grip dropped onto her shoulder.

_OHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCK._ The words circled in her mind, quick and in time with the rabbit-fast pounding of her heart.  Taking a deep breath, Darcy glanced over her shoulder and looked up… and up… and up. She finally met the angry, hazel scowl of an Thor-sized man, his lips blue and skin covered in snow and ice crystals.   _And of course they wouldn’t let me bring my taser to Antarctica._

“Oh, shit,” she whimpered.  BigScaryTallGuy’s grip was firm, but not painful, as it pulled and forced her to turn.  She turned around, eyes level with his chest, and dropped her head back to gape up at him. _Fuck_ .  He was massive, bigger than Thor, even.   _He could join the NBA.  And the NFL. He could play a new sport, BasketFoot.  Holy fuck._ As the somewhat hysterical thoughts circled her mind, the giant parted his blue lips, drawing in a ragged breath.

“Heeey... dude,” Darcy offered, her voice high.  “How’s it hanging?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she winced.   _Damn it, Darcy. Seriously shitty comment for first contact.  Crap._  The giant tilted his head, frowning down at her.   _Good job, Darcy.  Let’s confuse the huge, frost-bitten giant dude.  Good idea._  

“Sorry, dumb question; you’re covered in icicles, so the answer is probably: ‘really fucking cold,’” she babbled, her breaths suddenly rapid and shallow as adrenaline and fear surged within her.

BigScaryTallGuy’s frown deepened as he cocked his head to the other side, like a dog listening to a far-off sound.

“Oh shit, do you not have the, uh, the Allspeak? Fuck, this is going to be so much harder,” she whimpered.  “What is the intergalactic gesture for ‘please don’t kill me?’”

BigScaryTallGuy’s frown melted into a flat, almost non-threatening gaze.   _Okay, maybe he does understand me._ He opened his mouth.  For a short moment, he said nothing, as though he were warming up his voice. _Hell, his vocal cords are probably frozen solid._

“Wh-where?” he finally ground out. His voice was low and rough, like boulders dragging over gravel.

“Where, you mean where are you?” she squeaked.

BigScaryTallGuy nodded.

“Antarctica.”   _Really, Lewis? Don’t think space people study Earth’s geography!_ “It’s on Earth,” she added quietly.  “You know, Midgard?”

BSTG clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring as he glowered.  He was already comically bigger than her, definitely stronger, and now he looked _pissed_.

“Oh fuck,” Darcy whimpered.  A survival instinct reared its head, urging flight, fight, and panic.  Darcy jerked away from him and kicked directly at BSTG’s crotch. Pain screamed through her ankle as it hit armor, but Darcy was focused on him.  A touch of color reached his cheeks as his expression darkened with rage. _I’m dead._ He glared down at her and opened his mouth, but before BSTG could respond, the loud crack of Daniel’s gun sounded twice in rapid succession.  Stilling suddenly as two rounds of bright blue ammunition splattered on his forehead and cheek, BSTG toppled over. Daniel finally reached her, his not-really-a-gun!gun still trained on BSTG.  

“Man, I really hope that guy’s Asgardian,” Daniel muttered.  “Otherwise, he’s taking a nice long nap for a couple of weeks.”

“Holy shitballs,” Darcy gasped.  “What the fuck?”

Daniel pulled out his radio, gun held steady on BSTG.

“Base, this is Taylor.  Have made contact with an unknown, possibly Asgardian subject. Repeat, have made contact with possible Asgardian.”

“ _Taylor, this is Church. You found an Asgardian?  Is he a friendly?”_

“Unknown.  He accosted Lewis, so I hit him with two rounds.  Please send a snowcat for pickup, ASAP.”

“ _Shit.  Okay, will do, but can you get him on the sled and meet us?  We should be there in time, but we don’t want to risk the storm.”_

“Roger.  We’ll load him up and head back to base.”

Darcy listened, half paying attention, half focussed on the giant sprawled on his back before her.  Now that she wasn’t terrified, she could look closer at him. He was, as she’d observed before, fucking huge, and was was wearing armor that only made him look even more massive.  Under the snow and ice, it was hard to see too much detail. He had round face, his chin and square jaw covered in a neat beard. His lower lip was visible, looking surprisingly plush and soft for so scary an alien, but even unconscious, his nostrils were slightly flared.   _Not too bad looking, really._  Beside her, Daniel ended the conversation.  

“Okay, so, storm?” she asked.

“Yeah, it turned.  Shouldn’t hit for a couple hours, but he radioed earlier to warn me to hurry up.”

Darcy looked up at the snow covered hill and winced.  “We have to drag him up the hill, don’t we?”

Daniel looked down at the man, then back up at the hill.  “Fuck. Well, if it’s just me, I should be able to get the snowmobile up the hill, but you’ll have to watch him.  You okay with that?”

“Do I get to keep the gun?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Then we’re good,” Darcy said, reaching out for the gun.  He handed it to her, watching her closely.

“Just remember what I told you.”

Darcy shot him an unimpressed look, then checked the safety before limping away to rest on a boulder.  There were ten feet between her and BSTG, and she wasn’t taking her eyes off him. She kept her gaze locked onto BSTG as Daniel headed back up the hill.  After a few minutes, it got quiet, then boring. Her ipod wasn’t an option; she would just get distracted. So she started to fidget.

If anyone had been around, they might have been able to pick out the rhythm as she _zhush zhush zhush_ ed her legs together to the tune of “Like a Prayer”.  So far, she hadn’t seen so much as a muscle twitch from BSTG.

“You know what, you need a name, dude.  And calling you Big Scary Tall Guy in my head is kind of a mouthful.  Or, brain full. Whatever. Let’s see…. Something old timey, cause Asgardians have old timey names, right?  Hm. How about… Horatio?” Darcy squinted her eyes, then shook her head. “Nah, you don’t seem like a Horatio.

She paused to yawn and stretch.  “What about… Prospero? He was a sorcerer, pretty badass.” She pursed her lips as she studied him thoughtfully, then shook her head.  “Nah, you look more fighty than magicy. And he was old, whereas are you are, in fact, younger. Or at least younger looking. And kinda hot. 10 out of 10, would bone if you weren’t so terrifying.”

Darcy took a breath and let it out in one long, slow exhale between her lips.  “How about Mercutio? He was pretty cool, and you totally look like someone who’d end up in a duel.”

BSTG offered no response other than the shallow rise and fall of his chest.  Darcy nodded to herself. “Mercutio it is, then - good choice, dude! He was my favorite character in the ‘Romeo and Juliet’ Baz Luhrmann did.  That actor was awesome. I loved that movie when I was younger. Of course, then I grew up, and I was more of a ‘Daria’ fan. Which is funny, ‘cause I always thought of myself as Jane, and now I work for a Jane.  Ah, fate, you crafty son of a bitch,” she babbled.

“Aaaand I’m rambling. Sorry about that.  Just a bit nervous. Don’t hold aliens at gunpoint that often. I mean, there were the elves, but I didn’t really have a gun then.  And just for the record, can I just say how disappointed I am that those elves were so ugly? Not a single Orlando Bloom in the bunch.  Or even an Evangeline Lilly. She’s hot. I mean, I’m pretty much a solid zero on the Kinsey scale, but _damn_.  Shit, sorry, I’m rambling again.”

She stopped and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.  “I guess should be used to aliens by now. There was Thor and his crew, the giant, metal death machine, the Chitauri, the ugly Elves….  Oh, and the killer robots. Man, what I wouldn’t give for life to just calm the fuck down.”

The sound of the snowmobile reaching the top of this hill drew her attention.   _Oh, thank god._ Darcy got to her feet, wincing at the pain in her ankle, and brushed the snow from her backside.  “Well Mercutio, now is the hour of our discontented schlepping.”

* * *

 

After her bath, Darcy’s ankle felt even worse.  All she wanted was to sleep for a couple of hours, but the good drugs and bandages were all in the med bay.  Resigned to her fate, she struggled into sports bra, thermal underclothes, and then pulled on her fleece pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt.  She tied her blow-dried hair back in a ponytail, shoved her feet in her slippers, and limped out of her room. It proved harder than she’d anticipated.

“Fuck,” she panted, leaning against the wall beside her room. Her ankle was _killing_ her.

“Are you alright, Ms. Lewis?”  

Darcy looked over to find Dr. Pradesh, the botanist who was studying dangerous spores and plants.  He was a tiny, old Indian man who usually ignored her, always talking to Jane but not Darcy. But he was science!distracted rude, not mean rude.   _Unlike some people around here._

“Yeah, just need to get to med bay,” she said, leaning away from the wall.

Dr. Pradesh studied her like he would a spore, dark eyes ticking up and down her body, assessing.  “Would you like some help?” he offered, his wrinkles creased with worry.

_Oh fuck yes._ Darcy let out a sigh of relief and stuck her arm out.  “Yes, please.”

Dr. Pradesh smiled and ducked under her outstretched arm, holding her body to his as they started walking.  “So, how were you injured?”

“Well, pro tip doc: if a giant, scary alien guy in armor looks ready to punch you, don’t try to kick him in the balls.  It does _not_ end well.”

Dr. Pradesh chuckled.  “That is very sound advice, Ms. Lewis.  I will be sure to tell my daughters.”

The medical bay was located 100 feet away, the closest lab space to the sleeping quarters.  As they continued walking, Dr. Pradesh began talking about a new spore he was studying. Though his explanation was rather dull, it was enough to keep them from falling into an awkward silence.  And it was always fun to listen to scientist get passionate about their field. When they finally reached the med bay, the closed door was flanked by two security guards, Church and Meyers. _Or is it Beyers?_  She could never remember the man’s name.

“What happened, Lewis? Slip in the bathroom?” Church asked, a little smirk on his face.  Darcy hadn’t bothered to learn Church’s first name; he was one of the jerk guards who complained about having to deal with “useless personnel.”   

“Ninjas, actually,” she ground out.  Fuck, her ankle was starting to hurt more.   _How is that even possible?_

“She is injured,” Dr. Pradesh started.  Darcy looked at him in surprise. He was a generally a genial guy; she had never heard his voice sound so cold before.  “Apparently, fighting aliens is not recommended for physical health.”

The smirk dropped from Church’s face.  He looked back at Darcy, studying her for more than a second.  Taking in Darcy’s pained grimace, he winced.

“Shit; sorry, Lewis.  Spaceman is in there, so let me see if you should go in or if the doc wants to come out here.”

Church opened the metal door and stuck his head in.  After a few moments of quiet conversation, Dr. Zheng, the staff M.D., opened the door all the way.

“This way, Miss Lewis,” she said.

“Don’t worry, Dr. Pradesh, I got her,” Beyers assured him.   _Wow, he said more than two words!  Good job, meathead!_ He scooped Darcy up into his arms, carrying her into the room.  

“You know, normally, I would object to being hauled around like a sack of potatoes,” Darcy started, “but my ankle hurts too damn much.”

Meyers gave her a half-smile and set her down on the bed Zheng had indicated.  Once he’d stepped away, Darcy was treated to clear shot of Mercutio sitting in the bed farthest from hers.  Daniel and other guard, Green, stood on either side of him, both men armed. But Mercutio’s eyes were on her, his gaze focused and intense as he frowned thoughtfully.   _He doesn’t look super pissed, but hell, who really knows?  He could be doing that whole tough guy thing where he pretends it didn’t hurt, but he’s really super pissed.  Or maybe it didn’t hurt ‘cause he’s, like, freaking battle-armor Superman or something._  Darcy leaned back on her arms, watching him just as closely.   _Maybe he’ll just want to throw me across the room for insulting his manhood or whatever, and then we’ll be cool._

He was only slightly less imposing out of his armor and in a hospital gown. Still enormous, his lower legs comically rested on the footboard of the hospital bed, the blanket too small to cover his feet.  Two thick lines curved over his skull, dark green against bare skin. _Tattoos, maybe?  Okay, Lewis, time to play nice and hope he doesn’t try to Hulk-smash you._  Darcy gave him her most conciliatory grin and a small wave.

“Hey man, sorry about that, but you were kind of freaking me out.  And I’m pretty sure it hurt me more than it hurt you,” she said, nodding at her ankle. His eyes darted down to her ankle; Zheng had rolled the duck-covered pajama leg and thermal layer up, revealing the swollen and bruising flesh.

Dr. Zheng clicked her tongue as she began palpating the area.  “You should have gotten off your ankle as soon as you hurt it,” she chided.

Darcy fought a wince and grinned at the older woman. “Well, I wanted to, but enormous, unconscious warrior dudes in heavy armor don’t move themselves.”

She glanced over at Mercutio; the lines of his face had softened.   _Okay, progress.  Hopefully, he doesn’t want to kill me anymore._  

“That’s true enough,” Dr. Zheng said.  “Though I don’t know how the two of you got him back here.”

Looking at the doctor, Darcy raised an arm and flexed.  “Used my guns, Doc. Moving Jane’s lab equipment isn’t for the weak.”

She hissed sharply as Dr. Zheng began rotating her foot.  

“Tell me how much pain you’re feeling,” she ordered, carefully moving her foot side to side.

“It aches, but not bad.  Like, you know, minimal cramps that don’t hurt bad.”

Dr. Zheng smiled.  “Very good. Now, up and down.”  The doctor rotated her ankle up and down.

“Oh fuck, that hurts way more!  Like, stay at home with a hot water bottle cramps.”

With a thoughtful hmmm, Dr. Zheng reached for an ice pack and settled it on Darcy’s ankle.  Darcy hissed as the cold touched her skin.

The doctor just grinned and shook her head.  “Well, the sprain is fairly mild, and should heal in 2 to 4 weeks with proper care.  Just make sure to rest it, ice it—.”

“2 to 3 times a day for no more than 30 minutes, don’t make the compression bandage too tight, and keep it elevated,” Darcy recited.  “I’ll just follow Jane’s instructions, times two.”

“Correct. I’ll get you some ibuprofen and I’ll wrap your ankle in a few minutes, once some of the swelling has gone down.  Once I have that done, I’ll send you on your way with some crutches. I’ll have one of my staff will drop by your room later with some more cold compresses.”

“Thank you, Doc; you’re good people.”

Zheng again shook her head, still smiling, and walked away, leaving Darcy to recline on the bed and wait.   _Don’t stare at the alien, don’t stare at the alien, don’t stare at the alien….  Damn it!_ Despite her best efforts to not gawk at BSTG, her eyes drifted back over to him.  He was laying back on the raised bed, eyes closed; he looked relaxed. And Darcy had been right; he was actually was pretty hot. There was something intimidating, yet alluring, about his strong jawline and that soft lower lip.    _Just imagine kissing that_ , she thought.  Almost as though he could feel her gaze, he opened his eyes and looked right at her.  Darcy flushed and glanced away. _Busted._ She cleared her throat.

“So, dude, you got a name?” Darcy finally asked, her voice tight with embarrassment.

“He hasn’t been talking, Lewis, think he’s waiting to talk to someone important,” Green offered.  

“Seriously, Green?” Daniel asked, shooting Green a disgusted glance.  Green quickly dropped his eyes to the floor, though Darcy merely rolled her eyes.

A quiet rumble drew her attention, and she looked back over at Mercutio.

“Did you say something?”

A far-too attractive smirk curled his lips, hazel eyes sparkling with mischief.  “My name is Mercutio.”

Darcy groaned and dropped down to lay flat on the hospital bed.   _That’s it, today is officially bullshit._  

“Fuck my life.”


	2. Chapter 2

As forecasted, the storm had rolled in right before dinner the night before, cutting off transportation to and from the research station. The current estimate on the storm’s duration was 5 days.  According to dining room gossip, Tony had wanted to pick Mercutio up before SHIELD could, but it was a moot point with the inclement weather.  When Darcy got up the next morning, Jane wasn’t in her bedroom.  The scientist’s bed was in the exact same unmade state as it had been Thursday, pillows still on the floor.

_Great, another all nighter._

Returning to her room, Darcy got ready for the day.  She washed up, brushed her teeth, and dressed in flannel-lined jeans and her favorite hoodie (a t-rex trying to do a pushup).  Once her sheepskin boots were on, she hobbled out into the hallway on her crutches.  Darcy made the slow journey to the dining room, which was already filled with various personnel.  She spotted Daniel, seated with Dr. Pradesh and smiling politely; she’d bet dollars to donuts that he was talking up his husband’s application to SI in Cherry Springs.  Moving forward, she carefully made her way to the food service counter.  Skipping the short line, she went behind the counter and approached Inge-Lise, the head cook.

“Inge-Lise, _hjælp mig._ ” Darcy begged for help, putting on her strongest puppy-dog face.  Inge-Lise chuckled, smiling fondly before speaking.

“ _Godt morgen,_ Darcy! You are well?” Darcy loved the way Inge-Lise dragged out her name: _Dahr-seee_.  It was cool.  Inge-Lise was in her late-fifties, and treated Darcy almost like she was family.  

Darcy frowned in concentration, her Danish rudimentary, at best.  “ _Jeg… har det godt._ ”  

Inge-Lise smiled widely and nodded.  “Good.  Jane is working?” she asked.

“Yep. I think she’s been there all night.”  

“ _Nej,_ ” Ingle-Lise clicked her tongue and shook her head.  “She should not do that.  So, what for breakfast?”

Darcy looked down at the selection and hummed in consideration.  “Oatmeal with fruit and granola please.”  

“ _Godt.  Ska du har kaffe_?”

“ _Ja tak!_ All of the _kaffe_.”  

Inge-Lise smiled, the expression small, but her eyes were warm.  She turned and headed into the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a backpack.

“ _Vær så god_ , Darcy.  I will send someone with your lunch,” Inge-Lise said, holding out the backpack.

“Thanks, Inge-Lise.” Darcy set her crutches against the wall hugged the older woman.  “You’re awesome.”

Inge-Lise hugged her back, giving a tight squeeze.  As Darcy moved away to pull on the backpack, Inge-Lise’s gaze went over Darcy’s shoulder, the older woman’s eyes going wide.  Her eyebrows stretched up in shock before furrowing into a frown.

“ _For satan_ ,” she cursed.  “We will need more foods,” she said, nodding decisively.

Darcy turned her head to see Beyers (Meyers?) walking into the dining room with Mercutio.  Mercutio was barefoot, dressed in a pair of sweats that stopped four inches above the ankle, and a tee shirt that tightly stretched across his chest and shoulders. _Holy shit, he looks like fucking dorito!_  

The seams of his clothing were stretched taut, looking as though they were hanging on for dear life, and Darcy couldn’t help but wish for them to fail.  As she looked down his body, her gaze stuttered on his hips.   _Damn, son._ The cotton fabric of the sweatpants was stretched tight across his hips, thighs, and groin.   _Fuck.  Well, if he decides against the NBA, he could totally be a porn star._ Darcy quickly glanced away, forcing herself not to look back.  Blinking rapidly to clear her thoughts, she glanced back at Inge-Lise.  “If he eats like Thor, then yes, yes you will.”  

Darcy pulled on the backpack and grabbed her crutches.  “Have a good day, Inge-Lise,” she said as she started lurching toward the entrance on her crutches.  As she passed by the end of the line, she glanced up to find Mercutio frowning while simultaneously raising an eyebrow.   _That’s a neat trick._  

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice low and hesitant.  

Meyers’s head snapped toward Mercutio, eyes like saucers, but Darcy just grinned.   _This is better than t.v.!_  “No thanks, I’ve got it.”  

As she neared the exit, she offered Mercutio a small smile, and hobbled out.

* * *

Fridays were somewhat unique in the labs.  At the end of the work week, all researchers were required to upload any data or findings to the SI mainframe in California.   Darcy was focused on the laptop before her, running a search on the collected data, correlating it with prior readings and Jane’s expected readings.  When the results popped up, Darcy quickly entered the numbers into the current week's field journal.  Around noon, an alarm went off on Jane’s computer.

“What the-? Darcy, why is i-?”  Darcy looked up to see Jane tapping on her computer, silencing the beeping.  “Oh, right, right, it’s Friday, I have to upload—.”

“On it, Janie.  I’m compiling the data report as we speak, and when that’s done, we can write out your brainy conclusions and send it to Stark.”

“Oh, thank god; I always forget about that,”Jane mumbled, before brightening.  “But that’s why I have a Darcy.  Every good scientist should have one.”

Fighting a smile, Darcy’s chest warmed.  “Yeah, well, someone has to remind you to eat,” she joked.  

Jane gave her a flat look.  “Okay, yeah, that too.  But there is just _so much_ …” Jane trailed off, gesturing to dozens of pages of readouts and models pinned to the walls.  For all that Darcy ensured Jane ate and slept, she was also the organizing force in Jane’s universe.   Jane's mind was an amazing place, swirling with a near instinctual understanding of physics and the universe. It all made so much sense to her.  Most people couldn't understand Darcy’s importance to Jane, but Darcy knew that she was the best link between Jane’s brain and the world.   _I am the Bifrost to Jane’s brilliance; sort of._

Given the intricate and  groundbreaking conclusions Jane came to, there was a near constant clamor for any new information.  Darcy was the one who organized the data and notes, who helped ghostwrite Jane’s papers.   There had been more than a few comments made regarding the increased readability of Jane’s publications.  But compared to Jane, her contributions were almost nothing.

“Well at least my poli sci student loans were good for something,” Darcy quipped.  Jane shot her a dry, unimpressed gaze and coughed out: “lab management degree.”

“Thanks, mom,” Darcy murmured.  Jane stuck her tongue out at Darcy, then returned to her readings.  Darcy glared at her, then looked back at her keyboard.

Jane had been nagging Darcy about getting a laboratory management degree for a couple of years.  She maintained that it was pretty much what Darcy was already doing, so why not get a title and a larger paycheck?  It was a reasonable argument, but Darcy was okay with the coasting speed she had reached; she liked not having to do homework and cram for tests after work.  It was a good life.   _At least for now._  But she had researched how to get the degree.

Behind her, the lab’s door slid opened with a _swish_ .  Glancing back, Darcy saw Daniel entering, carrying a dining room tray and shadowed by a looming Mercutio who carried another.  Darcy’s eyebrows shot up.   _Well, if anyone could make a giant alien warrior do chores, it’d be Inge-Lise._ Daniel handed off his tray to Jane, who immediately grabbed her chicken wrap and took a large bite.  Mercutio set his tray in front of Darcy, nodding at her once.  

“Shouldn’t he be under lock and key or something?” Darcy asked, accepting her lunch.  Mercutio smirked before stepping away.   _Smug bastard._

“Well, Church did try to lock him in one of the labs last night.”

“And?”

“And the second they sealed the door, Mercutio ripped that bastard open with his bare hands.”

“Fuckleberries.  Did they shoot him again?”

“No.  Green said Mercutio just smirked at Church, and then went and laid down.”

Darcy looked back at Mercutio, smiling.  “I do approve of anyone who trolls Church,” she commended, giving Mercutio an approving nod before she looked over at Daniel.  “So we still don’t know what his real name is, but we do know that he officially has zero fucks to give.”

Daniel laughed.  “Yep.  He’s said, what, five words to you? That’s five more than he’s said to anyone else.”

“Well, not to brag,” she bragged with a shrug.  “But it’s closer to ten now.  Of course, I am sort of the universal little sister; non-threatening but annoying.  Though I do fear some manner of smiting since I did kick him in the junk.”

Mercutio frowned, looking almost offended as Daniel spoke.

“I think that if there was gonna be any smiting, the smiter would have already smited the smitee.  Anyways, we’ve got someone following him wherever he goes, but short of continually shooting him, we can’t actually confine him anywhere in the station.”

“Somewhere, Tony Stark just stood up and said ‘ _have I been challenged_?’ and he doesn’t even know why,” Darcy muttered.  Lifting her sandwich, she bit into the pastrami; warm and on a fresh-baked roll, it was heaven.

“ _Oh God,_ I love Inge-Lise,” she moaned around the food in her mouth, the appreciative sound coming from deep in her chest.  As she chewed, she glanced at Mercutio.  His eyebrows were raised, and he looked… stunned.   _What the hell is his problem?  I didn’t say any— .  Shit, I guess that moan was bit… orgasmy._ Clearing her throat, Darcy turned her attention back to her plate, fighting a blush.

“Seriously, why does Inge-Lise make you guys special food? She has a huge sign in the dining room that say ‘no special requests’,” Daniel complained.

“Because Darcy is the best person ever,” Jane mumbled through a mouth full of food.  “You know that week you met Michael and Lena in Argentina? Inge-Lise got really sick, so Darcy helped out in the kitchen.”

“Jane helped out too,” Darcy added.  “She did dishes, but she kept flinging suds and water on the floor.  Things got a bit slippery.”  Darcy smiled at the memory and looked up to Jane.  Jane was blushing, but smiling.  Shaking her head, Darcy looked over at Mercutio.  Who suddenly looked hungry.   _Well, it is an awesome sandwich, and it smells divine._

“Wait, is that how she sprained her ankle?” Daniel asked.

“Yes, it is,” Jane grumbled, returning her gaze back to her wrap.  “But it’s worth it; I love that Inge-Lise loves us,” she murmured around another bite of her wrap.

“Yep, I’m gonna write a guide book for the research station.  ‘Darcy Lewis’s guide to ingratiating yourself to the tiny, iron-fisted dictator of the cafeteria.’”

“It’d be a bestseller,” Daniel said with a chuckled.  Stepping away from Jane’s desk, he started moving toward the door.  “Well ladies, we’ll leave you to your science.”

Mercutio nodded at them before following Daniel.  Darcy turned in her chair, watching as Daniel and the alien left the room.  Right before the door sliding shut behind them, Darcy caught a glimpse of Mercutio’s ass in the tight pants.   _Nice!_  Out in the hall, Church stopped them by the window that looked into the lab.  Darcy turned back around and looked over at Jane.  “Are all aliens this hot?”

Jane looked up, her cheeks stuffed like a hamster.  Jane scrunched her nose and shook her head.  She took a drink of water and swallowed.  “Remember the Chitauri?”

“Oh, yeah, ick.  Well, at least we got a cute one.”

When Darcy glanced back at the window, she found Mercutio staring at her.  And he was smirking.  Again.

_I really hope he can’t hear us._

That evening, with the report sent off to Stark industries and no new readings for them to work from, she herded Jane into the the dining room for an early dinner, then bed.  Once Jane was settled, Darcy went into her room.  Stuffing a few items into her messenger bag, she limped out toward the dining room.  The station was quiet as she moved down the hall, soft lights emanating from the rec room and kitchen.

Like a lot of the rooms at the research station, the dining room was an odd mix of institutional fixtures, like metal walls, tables, and chairs, but with added potted plants scattered about and artwork hung on brightly painted walls. The dining room was mostly empty, save for a few researchers scattered about the room.  Darcy hobbled over to the drink station to make a cup of tea in her travel mug, then went and sat at an empty table directly across from the door.

Unpacking her messenger bag, she pulled out her ipod, some paper, a few envelopes and pen.  Settling in and playing Otis Redding on her iPod, she started writing to her Bubbe.  Though the station had an _excellent_ internet connection via one of SI’s satellites, Darcy’s grandmother preferred hand-written letters from her granddaughter.  It was a tradition started during Darcy’s time at Culver, and had continued in Puente Antigo and London.  The letters were never anything vital; important information was relayed through Darcy’s Mom, or by the frequent texts Darcy and her grandfather sent each other. The letters were just a way to gossip, to tell her grandmother about the station’s day to day minutiae.  Though the exact how and why were omitted out of an abundance of caution ( _No need to tell Bubbe about the alien bits)_ , she talked about her injured ankle and Dr. Pradesh’s kindness.  She paused for a sip of tea.

_Okay, what else?  What else? Oh!_

_“Today for lunch, Inge-Lise (or one of her chefs) made one of the best pastrami sandwiches I’ve ever had.  It’s probably because it’s been so long since I’ve had a good one, and cause I miss Mom’s pastrami, but it was damn good.  I may have made a happy,_ _happy_ _noise while eating it.  It was that good.”_

In her peripheral vision, she saw movement.  Glancing up, she saw that Green and Mercutio had come in and were perusing the dessert table.  Fighting a smile, Darcy looked back down at her letter.

 _“There is a new guy here, and he’s a giant.  His luggage got lost, so he’s been wandering around in someone else clothes, which are just way too small for him.  I_ **_almost_ ** _feel bad for him, but I’m usually too busy ogling him; dude looks like a dorito on tree trunks.  Don’t think he’s supposed to be around here for long, but he sure is nice to look at.”_  Grinning down at the letter, she drew a smiley face with a tongue hanging out.

More movement, this time to her right, drew Darcy’s gaze away from her letter.  Looking over, she found Mercutio and Green sitting at the table beside her, plated desserts sitting on the table.  Mercutio’s hazel eyes ticked up toward her, before darting back down to his plate.

“Ohhh, you’re in for a treat, Spaceman; Inge-Lise’s pastries are so good,” Darcy piped up.  Mercutio glanced at her; he opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it immediately and looked back down at his plate.

Green looked up from his phone, eyes darting between Darcy and Mercutio, before looking back down at his screen.  Darcy returned her gaze back to her letter.

 _“But is it weird that, even as terrifying as he seems, I kinda feel for the guy?  He’s a big guy, and he looks scary.  But he’s only ever been polite to me and Jane.  I feel like people just generally avoid him, and it makes me kinda sad, I guess.  I dunno, I’m probably just overthinking things since I’m stuck here at the literal_ _ass_ _end of the world.  Maybe it’s because most of the big strong guys I know carry themselves with so much confidence, but this guy just always seems guarded.  Like he’s not sure how to interact with normal people, how to act.”_

Taking a break, Darcy set down her pen and picked up her mug.  Sipping at her tea, she let her mind wander to the odd events that made up her daily life here.  As she tapped her short nails against the metal mug, she let her eyes drift around the room.  A pair of biologists were sitting together, reading from their tablets and occasionally pausing to show each other something of interested.  In the corner, one of Inge-Lise’s chefs was going through a stack of papers, muttering to herself and making notes on the sheets.  And at the table beside her, Green was focused on his phone, his desert only partially eaten.  Mercutio’s plate was empty, his arms crossed as he stared blankly at the table.

Pulling out her ear buds, she spoke up.  “Bored?”   

Mercutio looked up from the table, somehow taken aback.  Treating her to a sheepish half-smile, he nodded.

“Wanna play a game?”  

Mercutio stilled, his eyes dark and intent as he looked at her.  After a moment’s hesitation, he slowly nodded.   _Awww… he is just adorable._

Carefully taking her foot off the chair in front of her, she waved him over to the empty seat.  “Here, sit across from me, and we’ll play America’s number one game for bored students.”

Mercutio’s brow furrowed slightly, eyes blank and guarded as he glanced over at Green.  Green was looking between Darcy and Mercutio, eyebrows raised.  Shrugging, the guard offered: “I don’t care; just don’t leave the room.”

Mercutio nodded once, then stood and took the seat across from Darcy.

Turning her letter upside down, she pushed her papers aside and pulled out a clean sheet.  She began folding it carefully, each fold and crease precise and neat.  When she had finally tucked the last piece, she had a small triangle.

“So, this was always my favorite game to play when I was bored in class.  The idea is to flick the ball,” she said, lifting the paper triangle, “into the goal.”

“Goal?” he asked.

Darcy set the football down and held up both hands.  Shaping the thumb and forefinger into an “L” shape, she set her wrists on the table and pressed the tips of her thumbs together.  “This is the goal; you have to get the football through here, between my hands.  Then, when it’s my turn, you make the goal and I try to score.”

He nodded and replicated her hands.  When he rested his wrists on the edge of the table, Darcy saw a critical error.  “Okay, that’s an unfair advantage because your goal is way bigger than mine, so it’ll be easier for me to score points.”  She paused.   _Although, when I played with Thor…._ “Actually, I think we’ll be kind of evenly matched, because you have your super space abilities so you probably have better aim than I do.”

Picking up the football, Darcy smiled at him.  “Okay, so you can be the goal first, and I will demonstrate the proper way to flick the ball.”

* * *

The next morning, Darcy awoke  to the sound of Jane’s shower singing.  Always loud and frequently off-key, it always meant the scientist was in a really good mood.  _And it's funny as fuck._ Groaning, Darcy rolled over and grabbed her phone from the nightstand to check the time.

 _Huh, 8:12; this did not go as bad as I expected_.  Sitting up, she flicked on the light, grinning at Jane’s singing.  Darcy stood and hopped over to the door, opening it to chime in.

_“Because maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me_

_And after all, you're my wonderwall!”_

Jane peeked out from behind the shower curtain, her hair a giant sudsy pile atop her head.

“Morning, Darcy! I had an idea about -.”

“Jane, you always have an idea.  But breakfast first.”

Jane paused, then grinned. “Yes! Saturday breakfast!”

“Saturday breakfast!”

“Wait, do you wanna shower first?”

“Nope, did it last night.”

“Saturday breakfast!” Jane yelled.

“Saturday breakfast!”

 

Both women hurried to get dressed, and were soon walking into the cafeteria.  Saturdays (and Sundays) had the best breakfasts.  Inge-Lise went all out: scrambled eggs, pancakes, bacon, sausage, hash browns, ful with pita bread, Danish bread rolls and cheese, and even some pastries.  During the week, most of the scientists would just grab food and run to the labs.  But on the weekends, everyone like to sit around and enjoy breakfast.  Luckily, Inge-Lise, being the kind overlord that she was, would serve breakfast until ten-thirty on the weekends, as opposed to the usual nine o’clock.  But when the breakfast foods were gone, they were gone, so time was of essence.  When Darcy and Jane arrived in the dining room at nine, it was only half full, and the food trays were still filled.

By the time they sat down to eat (a kitchen worker abashedly carrying their food after Inge-Lise had yelled at him in Danish), it was just turning nine.  Jane was muttering about her idea, half to herself and half to Darcy, as she ate pancakes rolled around sausages.  Darcy had opted for the ful, a dish made by Aamira, a chef from Yemen.  Aamira made the dish spicy, so it was ideal for cold mornings.  She quickly dug into the food, making a small happy sound as the flavor burst across her tongue.  

Far sooner than she would have liked, Darcy’s ful was all gone.   _Aw, sadness._  Pushing the bowl away, she began picking at the bowl of fruit cocktail she’d added at the last minute.  As she ate the fruit cocktail, someone set down a tray and pulled out the chair beside Darcy.  She looked over saw a tray _filled_ with food; there was a large stack of pancakes, a heap of eggs, a couple of rolls, and a bowl of ful.   Darcy looked up to see Mercutio.  He nodded at her and Jane, then sat down.  

“Are you well?” he asked, looking closely at her forehead.

Jane looked up from her plate.  “Wait, well? What happened?”

“We played paper football last night, and I took a couple of hits to the head.”

Jane’s eyebrows show up as her mouth formed an “o”.  Leaning forward, she inspected Darcy’s forehead.  “Well, there’s no bruises, so he did better than Thor,” she declared with a shrug.

Darcy snickered.  “Yeah,” she said, looking over at Mercutio, “he was much more careful about his aim, and he was just generally a more careful shot than Thor.”

As they spoke, Church moved closer to the their table but shot a longing glance over at table where Brit sat.  Darcy smothered a grin as Church sighed unhappily before sitting at the end of the table.  There weren’t really any secrets in the research station, and Church’s crush on Brit, a tall, dark-haired Norwegian scientist, was known to everyone.

Looking back at the alien, Darcy took a drink of coffee before speaking again.

“I taught that game to Thor, but I think the football and flicking wasn’t his thing, because for all his good aim, he didn’t have the finesse for it.  And then he got super frustrated when he started losing, so I ended up with a couple of bruises from some super hard flicks.”  Looking back at Jane, she continued.  “But on the plus side, Thor agreed that he owes me one _major_ favor, to be collected at a future date.  And lucky for me, Mercutio has a lot more finesse.”  

When Darcy looked back at Mercutio, he was silent, but wore a small grin as he started in on his tall stack of pancakes, as Darcy continued to nurse her coffee.  

Darcy watched from the corner of her eyes as Mercutio devoured his pancakes.  When he’d swallowed the last bite, he grabbed a spoon and moved to eat the ful.

“Wait, dude, you’re supposed to use the pita bread,” Darcy interrupted.

Mercutio froze, a slight frown on his brow as he looked at her.  Darcy grabbed a piece of pita bread from his tray and tore off a piece.  Using it, she scooped up some of ful with it.  

“See, like this,” she offered, eating her bite of pita and ful.  After swallowing it down, she continued.  “It’s good, and the pita helps with the spicy.”

Her brain quickly caught up to her hands.   _Darcy, you just stole the dude’s food.  Bad Darcy!_ Trying not to grimace, she could feel the blush spreading across her face.  “And I just totally put my hands all over your food and stole of some of it; sorry about that.  ”  

Mercutio stared at her, his surprised gaze giving way to a wide grin that her made her stomach flip over.   _Okay, seriously, is that a dimple?_ _Not fair!_  Looking away, he followed her instructions, carefully tearing off a piece of the pita.  He scooped up some of the ful and took a bite.  When he finished his first bite, he looked back at Darcy, offering her a small, sweet smile.  “Thank you,” he offered quietly.   _Seriously?  He should not be this adorable and scary!  This is bullshit!_

Darcy looked away as she felt herself starting to flush… again.  “Yeah, well.  No problem.”

Across the table, Church huffed and crossed his arms, glaring at his breakfast.

* * *

 

By six o’clock that night, Darcy was done.  She’d helped Jane gather up the data she needed, but she had done all she could; the rest was up to Jane’s ginormous brain. After a quick call to the security office, she was off to find her bro of bros. It took a few minutes for her to reach the station’s gym; it wasn't exceedingly large, but it had a decent amount of equipment and a narrow lap pool.   _Only Stark would insist on a pool in the Antarctic_.  Daniel sat beside the pool, fully dressed in his customary fleece jacket and jeans.

“Don't you need gym clothes to work out?” she teased as she moved closer.

“Not if you're just watching.”   Daniel nodded toward the pool, where Darcy could see a large figure cutting smoothly through the water, swimming at an inhuman speed.

 _Damn it._ _I probably looked like a total dweeb._ Mercutio had made her feel all giddy and blushy that morning.   A ctually, he pretty much always made her feel all giddy and blushy.  And squirmy in the pants region.   _He’s just so hot._  Of course, the problem wasn’t just that he was super hot.  Because yes, he was hot like the sun.  But she really liked the whole gentle giant vibe he’d been giving off.  There was a sweetness to him, something in his eyes whenever he saw her, something that looked so surprised.  Of course, those looks were just as frequent as that smug, smirky one he had.   _You are probably just really amusing to him.  Like a puppy or something equally defenseless and adorable._

“Well, I guess that puts the kibosh on my plans,” Darcy said, lowering herself into the chair next to Daniel’s.  “I was going to bug you until you came with me for popcorn and a movie.”

“But Saturday night is movie night!” he protested.  “We could still watch a movie if you don’t mind Mercutio coming along.”

The water splashed as Mercutio surfaced.  He braced his thick arms on the concrete, and with one smooth push, he was out of the pool and kneeling on the concrete floor.  And Darcy, well, her brain was in another time zone.  Because those swim trunks were short and tight on him, and sweet sassy molassy, he was ripped.  Like, Thor or Captain America ripped.  Darcy knew she was staring, but she couldn’t stop.

 _Holy shitballs, the dude’s muscles have muscles_ !  His chest and upper arms were criss-crossed with dark green tattoos that only made his muscles look even more ginormous.  He was, objectively, sexy as hell.  She could easily imagine tracing those tattoos with her fingers and lips, teasing him.  She shivered and swallowed hard.   _Really wish I’d been able to bring a sex toy.  Cause Darcy needs some happy fun alone time._  She blinked and looked up at his face, only to find Mercutio giving her a small, smug, grin that could only be described as “shit eating”.  Darcy narrowed her eyes.    _Oh, it’s on_.

“Not too shabby,” she said.  “But not as nice as Thor.”  

Daniel made a choking noise beside her as Mercutio’s eyebrows shot up.  His eyes quickly narrowed in a glare, but one side of his mouth was quirked up, as though he were trying to fight a smile.   _Hah!  Darcy: 1, Mercutio… crap, he’s probably at 10 points already.  But I’m injured, so my point is an awesome, mighty point!_  As he dried off, Darcy stood and forced herself to look at Daniel.

“So,” she said, “movie night’s a go?”

“Sure.  What movie do you wanna watch?” Daniel asked.

Darcy scoffed and raised an eyebrow.  “Dude, we’re trapped in Antarctica by a snowstorm and there’s an alien in the research station; there is only one logical choice.”

“‘The Thing?’”

“‘The Thing.’  I’ll meet you there in ten minutes.” Darcy began hobbling out, then paused. “Okay, make it fifteen.  I should make sure Jane gets something to eat.  You boys can obtain the popcorn.”

* * *

 Darcy arrived at the rec room twenty minutes later and looked around.  

“I have never seen the rec room this empty so early,” she remarked, stunned, as her eyes swept the vacant area.

All but one of the couches were empty, the pool table and pinball machines unoccupied.  Mercutio (in what was both a blessing and a curse), was again fully dressed and seated in a recliner, while Daniel was sprawled on the couch closest to the television.  The movie was queued up, ready to start.  

“You should have seen it, Darce,” Daniel said, grinning.  “Green and Church wouldn’t give up the remote, so Mercutio just stood in front the t.v. and crossed his arms, glaring at them.  Church was fucking _pissed_.  They kept telling him to move, but he just stood there and glared down at them.  I swear to God, it was the scariest glare I’ve even seen.”

“Scarier than your husband’s?”

“Oh yeah.  There may be have been invisible eye beams involved, because Green and Church fucking bolted.  And everyone else sort of drifted out right after them."

Darcy looked at Mercutio and gave him a beatific smile.  “Just for that, you may partake of my super secret stash.”  She dug into the bulging pocket of her hoodie and pulled out a box of Junior Mints and a bag of gummy bears.  He raised his hands and took them, a small, surprised smile quirking his lips.  He bowed his head, and looked down at the candy, his smile widening.  Which did not, in any shape or form, give Darcy butterflies in her stomach.   _Stupid dimples._

She turned around and faced the television, attempting a certain degree of nonchalance.  Based on Daniel’s grin, it wasn’t working.

Dropping onto the couch, Darcy shoved him with her elbow.  “Just shut up and start the movie, butthead.”  She turned and looked at Mercutio.  “Can you turn off the light?” she asked.  “You need the full movie theater experience for ‘The Thing.’”

Mercutio looked behind himself and flicked off the light switch, darkening the room as Daniel started the movie.  

Darcy settled in and watched the movie, chewing on gummy bears and popcorn.  But instead of focusing on the movie, she spent much of her time willing herself not to watch their alien.  She only mostly succeeded.  For his part, Mercutio observed the the movie with a curious gaze, fascinated by the film, though he did look very put out by the Norwegian scientists shooting at the dog in the beginning.  But during the kennel scene, right as the alien dog's head split open, Darcy fully turned to watch him. Mercutio sat stock still, his hand frozen halfway to his mouth, a Junior Mint pinched between his fingers as he gaped at the screen.

A grin split Darcy’s face; before she could smother the look or turn back to the screen, Mercutio looked at her. He arched an eyebrow, looking at her grin, and then shook his head ruefully.  He turned back to the movie and ate the piece of candy he held, quickly licking the melted chocolate from his fingers.

Heat surged through Darcy, and she quickly snapped her head back toward the movie. Even with the gore onscreen, all Darcy could think was: _Sploosh.  Imagine that mouth… those lips on your—_ Cutting off that line of though, she forced herself to focus on the movie.

By the time the movie ended, Daniel was asleep, snoring softly.  Grabbing the remote from the coffee table, she turned the t.v. off.  As she tried to stand, Daniel let out a loud snore.  Darcy let out a bark of laughter, dropping back onto the couch.  Mercutio was, of course, far more graceful.  He quickly stood and moved over to Darcy, offering his hand.  Slowly, she put her hand in his; his hand was large, palm rough and layered with calluses.  He folded his fingers over her hand, dwarfing it as he gently tightened his grip and carefully helped her stand. Once Darcy was steady, he bent down to retrieve the crutches, offering them to her.  

“Thanks,” Darcy muttered. She looked up at him, ready to make a joke, but the words caught in her throat. His eyes were locked on her face, his expression open, relaxed.  He looked comfortable, maybe even happy?  In any event, Darcy was starting to suspect that he didn’t smile all that often.  She’d seen his smirky-smile, and his amused smile, but this one, the small, happy one, made her heart lurch.   _Red alert, red alert!_  Casting her gaze about, hoping to find something else to focus on, her eyes landed on the empty box of Junior Mints next to Mercutio’s seat.

“So, did you like the gummy bears?” she asked, looking back at him.  Mercutio yanked the mostly-full bag out of the pocket of his tight sweatpants.  He held up the mostly-full bag and frowned.

“I don’t know.  They were… strange,” he rumbled.

A shiver ran up her spine; Darcy was struck by the sudden phantom sensation of that rumbling voice in her ear, against her throat, those calloused palms sliding across her skin…. She slowly blinked, watching his nostrils flare as he inhaled.  His gaze darkened into something dark and hungry.  Her skin prickled with heat; she wanted to touch him, wanted him to touch her.  She licked her lips, her heart pounding.

 _Just imagine pressing against all that muscle; naked.  Whoa, down girl, down!_ She cleared her throat. “And the movie?” she whispered

Mercutio’s gaze was locked on her face, eyes closely studying her face. He slouched forward, hesitantly leaning toward her.  Darcy’s heart was still pounding as butterflies careening around in her stomach.  Electricity crackled between them, and in that moment, she wanted nothing more but than to kiss the crap out of the hot alien.  As he moved his head closer, she pushed up with her good foot.  He was so close; she could feel his breath on her lips, could smell the mint from the candy.  She took in a shaky breath through her mouth.   _So close…._

As Mercutio moved to close the last inch between them, Daniel let out another snore.  

Mercutio pulled away, breaking that sudden spell.   _NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!_ He smiled almost bashfully as he stepped back, his ears and cheeks taking on a pink hue. “I would feel better if I had a weapon,” he admitted, looking down at his feet.

 _Weapon? What?  Oh, right, the movie._ Darcy barked out a laugh, trying hard to calm her frantic heart.  “The first time I watched this movie, I kept having to reassure myself that aliens were not real. Can’t do that now.  But if there is an alien like that out there, please, never, _ever_ ,  tell me.”

Behind her, Daniel's snoring cut off with a snort. “‘zit over?”

In the blink of an eye, Mercutio had stepped away and started gathering their garbage.

“It's over,” she said.   _Well shit, happy fun time for one, manual style, coming up._  Darcy maneuvered herself around the couch and headed for the door. “Well, time for bed.  Night, guys.”

“Night, Darce,” Daniel called, rising to his feet and yawning.

As Darcy went past Mercutio, she heard a soft, quiet “Good night.”


	3. Chapter 3

Sundays were usually Darcy’s favorite day of the week.  On Sundays, Darcy usually got up around nine, called her mom, ate a late breakfast, and would then proceed to spend her day bumming around the station.  She’d hang out with someone, usually Jane, Inge-Lise or Daniel, and play games or watch movies. It was nice way to unwind, and as close to a day out as one got in Antarctica.  This Sunday should have been a Sunday like the rest, with the added bonus of hot alien ogling. And to top if off, Darcy had even slept really well the night before. But this was not going to be a good Sunday.

Sitting on her bed, half-dressed and crying, everything was  _ wrong _ , and there way no way for Darcy to make it better.

“ _ I’m so sorry, Darcy,”  _ her mother said, voice breaking as a sob tore free.  

“No, Mom, it's okay; you did what you could. We'll just wait and see.” Darcy swallowed around the lump in her throat, swiping at her tears. She pulled her cell phone away from her mouth and took a shaky breath before speaking again. “I'm sure he'll be fine; he’s a tough pup. Just call Aunt Bekah and go get something to eat. You can't do anything else right now.”

Rachel Lewis took a deep breath. “ _ I know, baby.  It’s just… I was supposed to take care of him for you.”   _ Rachel’s voice was thick with tears and exhaustion, sounding weary beyond description.

_ Shit, Mom.   _ “Mom, you’ve been there for twelve hours.  You need to call Aunt Bekah, go home and get something to eat.  You’ve done everything you can.”  _ Just please stop crying. _

Rachel took a deep breath and calmed herself. “ _ You’re right, baby; you’re right.  I’ll give her a call and head home.” _

“Promise?”

“ _ I promise. _ ”  Rachel took a deep, shaking breath, then let it out slowly.  When she spoke again, her voice was steady. _  “Now you go, too, eat your breakfast, Darcy. _ ”

“I will, Mom.”

“ _ Promise?” _

“Promise.” 

“ _Okay. Now you take care, sweetie, and give Jane a hug for me, okay?_ _I love you_.”

“Love you, too.”

When her mom hung up, Darcy’s phone ended the connection with a sad beep.  She lowered her phone and looked at the screen. For a conversation lasting only twenty minutes, it had been draining; Darcy felt more drained in that moment than she had after spending a day fighting space elves.  With a heavy sigh, she flopped back onto her bed and stared up at the grey ceiling.

_ He’ll be fine, he’ll be fine, he’ll be fine, he'll be fine... _ . Darcy kept repeating the words over and over in in her head as she took deep, calming breaths. But it didn’t stop the tears running down her face and into her hair.  Curling up on her side, she gave in and just let out a soft, tremulous sob. The sob tapered off into tiny whimpers as Darcy wept. She could hear her Mom’s voice:  _ “Just let it all out, Darcy-girl.” _  She cried against her pillow, her breath getting trapped in the material as tears soaked into the pillow case.   _ Oh, Baker; I’m so sorry.   _

Baker was her buddy, her amigo.  When she’d followed Jane to London, Darcy had gladly                           jumped through numerous hoops, getting Baker the shots and papers required just so he could go with her.  Aside from the odd trip to a conference, Baker was almost always with her. After she’d said goodbye to Baker to head down to the bottom of the world, it had taken Darcy a week to get used to sleeping without his little body curled up against her.  And now, he’d been hurt, badly. If he didn’t survive….  _ He’ll die without knowing I was coming back to him.  He’ll think I just abandoned him. _

That thought set off another volley of tears, Darcy’s chest shuddering.  She let herself cry until the tears slowed, then stopped. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to curl up under the blankets and sleep the day away.  But she couldn’t; Jane would come looking for her if she disappeared.  _ Just pretend it’s fine, okay?  Fake it til you make it, Lewis.   _ Darcy’s stomach let out a growl; she checked her phone to find it was just after ten.   _ And then there’s the issue of food.  Fuck.  _

With a heavy sigh, Darcy rolled out of bed.  She stared down at her daytime tee shirt and thermal undershirt, paired with her fleece pajama bottoms and fuzzy socks.  She'd been in the process of getting dressed when she’d called her Mom to catch up on the week. _  I should put on real pants and shoes, go full-adult.   _ A shaky breath rattled through her chest, and tears welled up again. _  Fuck. _

Darcy limped into the bathroom and glanced at the mirror;  her face was red and splotchy, eyes puffy.  _ Crap.   _ She bent over to wash her face with cold water; long after her face was clean, she kept splashing her skin, over and over until the icy water made her face numb.  Turning off the water, she grabbed her towel to dry her face.  _ Hopefully I won’t look like a tomato. _ Foregoing her contact lenses, she left the bathroom, carefully avoiding the mirror.  After putting on her glasses and slippers, she grabbed her crutches and opened her door the hallway.

_ Alright, Darcy, time for food.  It’s better than sitting around crying, and despite Mercutio’s hotness, it’s not like you really have anyone to impress.  Anyone you want to impress probably isn’t interested anyways, so, you know, no big deal. _  Darcy took another deep, shuddering breath to calm herself, and pulled the hair tie from her ponytail, letting the dark waves fall around her face.  Leaving her room, she kept her head down, eyes on her feet as she moved through the halls, the world obscured by her hair.  _ Ah, hair, the ultimate cloak of invisibility. _

When she finally reached the dining room, she pasted on a fake smile and looked up.  She glanced around the room and found Jane sitting across the table from Daniel and Mercutio, their backs toward Darcy.   _ And of course tall, dark, and sexy is here to see my cry face; that’s just fucking great.   _ Jane had been watching the door, and her eyes quickly took in Darcy’s red eyes and miserable countenance.  The companionable smile on the scientist’s face fell away as she struggled to her feet, worry etched into the lines of her face.  Embarrassed, Darcy quickly looked away before Daniel and Mercutio could look over. 

Shuffling forward, she moved into the food line, eyes glued to the floor. As the line slowly moved forward, a pair of feet appeared in front of her. Darcy stopped short, causing the person at her back to crash into her.

_ God damnit. _  She glanced glanced back to apologize. Church looked down at her, his eyes widening comically at the sight of Darcy’s face.    _ Fuck _ .  His mouth opened and closed before he finally spoke.

“Geez, Lewis, what happened? Boyfriend dump you?” It was a weak attempt at his usual douche bro humor, but this time, it actually pissed her off.  Heat prickled her skin as rage surged through Darcy, angry tears welling.  _ Mother fucker! _  She was ready to deliver the tongue lashing of tongue lashings, but the sound of a chair clattering to the floor distracted her.  Almost faster than she could process, Mercutio appeared before her as though summoned out of thin air. With no visible exertion, he lifted and slammed Church against the dining room wall, the human’s throat clenched in one large hand.  Church dangled a couple of feet off the floor, eyes wide and face red. Darcy’s jaw dropped.

The room was silent for a split second before it descended into utter chaos.  Daniel, Green, and Beyers rushed over as the people in the dining room began moving; some trying to get away from the scene, some trying to get a better look.  Daniel ushered Darcy back, pulling her behind his body. 

“Put him down,” Green ordered, voice loud and even. He was the only one with a gun, and he had it raised and aimed, arm steady.  His laid-back exterior was gone, replaced with that of a soldier.  _ At least Green is good for something. _

The room had fallen deathly silent, aside from Church’s strangled gasps and gurgling.  He kept scratching and hitting Mercutio’s arm to no avail, his kicks equally ineffective.  Mercutio was as stone, every muscle in his body coiled as his body near vibrated with rage.  For her part, Darcy was a mix of emotions; a vicious part of her roared with approval at seeing Mercutio scare the crap out of Church, while a small bubble of joy surfaced at the sight of someone fighting for her.  But beneath that, a ribbon of annoyance surfaced. Darcy had taken care of herself for a long time; she didn’t need someone to fight her battles for her.

“Put him down!” Green ordered again.  Mercutio didn't move, never looking away from Church’s red face — which was starting to turn a bit purple.   _ Shit. _  Darcy shoved past Daniel and Meyers.

“Darcy, don’t–.”

She flapped a hand in Daniel’s direction, silencing her friend.  She hobbled to Mercutio’s side and looked up at his glowering face.  His turned his head and looked down at her, his arm steady, his hold on Church never wavering.  

“Just let him down, okay?” she asked.

Mercutio clenched his jaw, narrowing his eyes in a glare that he cast towards Church before looking back down at her, a question in his eyes.   _ Wowzers, he really wants to hurt Church. Okay, plan b.  _  Darcy reached up and placed a hand on his bicep, tugging on his arm.   _ Holy shit, his biceps are huge!   _ She knew she couldn’t move him like this, and for a split second, she imagined trying to do a pull up while hanging from his arm– while he was shirtless.  Darcy blinked the image away, and focused on his eyes.

“It’s okay, I don’t need you to beat him up for me; I can handle him.   And I’m not really mad at him; he’s just being a jerk because human men do _ not  _ know how to cope with crying women.  So just put him down, okay?”

A split second stretched out, but with a single exhale, the rage and tension in Mercutio melted away into a petulant scowl.  He nodded his assent to Darcy and slowly lowered his hand until Church was back on the ground, coughing. Church quickly scrambled away, face red and eyes wide as he looked back and forth between Darcy and Mercutio.  Once Mercutio dropped his hand to his side, Darcy reached out and clutched at his palm, squeezing it once in thanks.  _ Even if he did go full caveman, that  _ **_was_ ** _ pretty badass.  And kinda hot. _ His hand turned over, large calloused fingers tangling with hers.  Like the rest of him, his hand was massive, battle-scarred and worn, capable of untold violence.  But for her, his touch was warm and gentle as he brushed his thumb over the back of Darcy’s hand.

From his place against the wall, Church rasped out: “Security office.  Now.”

________

“Wait, what happened?”  Pepper Potts glared at all of them, thoroughly unimpressed.  She was dressed in a bathrobe, her hair wrapped in a towel. Her Sunday morning had obviously been interrupted, and yet she still looked amazing.  She looked at them through the screen, then sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Without looking up, she ordered: “FRIDAY, please patch Tony in; he can deal with this.” 

As Pepper’s screen went dark, a second screen in the security office lit up, showing a grease-covered Tony Stark.  Some of his hair was standing straight up, some of it pressed flat, and there was a strange, manic light in his wide eyes.   _ Uh oh; someone’s been on a science bender. _

“What happened?” Tony snapped out.

Church coughed.  “There was an altercation with Mercutio,” he rasped out. 

Tony frowned. “Who?”

“Mercutio; it’s what we’ve been calling our guest, Mr. Stark,” Daniel explained.

“Oh, very Shakespearean.  I like it, works with the whole sword and shield thing they've got going on.  Whose idea was that?” 

Darcy raised her hand.  Seeing her, Tony let out a sharp burst of laughter and shook his head.  “Of course, it was you, Lewis. Wait, who are you?” he asked, looking back at Church.   _ Hah, see,Tony Stark knows  _ **_my_ ** _ name! Suck it, Church! _

Church tried to speak, only to fall into a coughing fit.  Green answered for him. “That’s Brad Church, head of security.  Well, not head, but, you know, acting head while Kwan and Romero are in Argentina.  They had to–.” 

Tony narrowed his eyes, gaze focused on Church as he held up a hand, silencing Green’s rambling.  “Church. Huh. So what happened?”

Green looked at Darcy, then back at Tony.  After a thoughtful pause, he spoke again. “Well, I didn’t see, sir, but–.”

_ Seriously? I'd like get breakfast today.    _ “I was upset, and Church started being a tool… but not in a super mean way, just his normal, douche way,” she said, shooting Church a half-hearted glare; he looked away from her, eyes falling to the floor.  “So, Mercutio went all chivalrous, Hulk-style.”

Tony winced, bracing his arms on his work table.  He took a deep breath before speaking. “Fuck. How much structural damage was there?”

“None,” Daniel offered.  “He just pinned Church against the wall and didn’t let him go until Darcy talked him down.” 

“Oh, that’s great!” Tony said, smiling widely as he visibly relaxed.

Darcy glanced at Church and had to smother a laugh; Church’s face was the personification of  _ WTF _ .  “Sir,” he coughed out.  

“Well, not the violence part,” Tony continued, “but the lack of Hulk-damage.  Usually my Hulk-damage costs are much… Hulk-ier. So what  _ did _ Church say to you, anyways, Lewis?” 

The room went quiet as the assembled group turned to stare at her, some amused (Daniel), while the rest seemed merely curious.   _ Shit, I really didn’t want to go over this yet.   _

After as quiet moment, Darcy finally answered.  “I was already upset and then Church made a stupid joke.”  Tony’s gaze remained on her, inquisitive.  _ Okay, guess I get to tell everyone.  “ _ I talked to my mom this morning and Baker got hit by a car.” 

“What?  Is he okay?” Daniel asked, the amused grin on his face disappearing.  His brow was furrowed with worry as he moved beside Darcy. When he clapped a supportive hand on her shoulder, Darcy looked over and tried to give her friend a smile. It felt wrong on her face, like she need duct tape to even keep the expression in place.   _ Even Tony wouldn't be fooled by this smile.   _ Darcy looked away and back toward the exchange before her.

“He–.” Church tried to speak again, but was easily drowned out by Tony.

“Wait, who in the hell is Baker?” Tony interrupted, throwing his hands up. The room fell silent, the small group turning almost as one to look at Darcy.

Darcy cleared her throat.  “Baker is my dog. I saved him in Puente Antiguo when that Asgardian Destroyer thing went all… boom.”  She trailed off, miming an explosion.

Tony frowned.  “Okay. So how did that lead to the big guy tossing Church around?”

“Well….”  Darcy trailed off.   _ That is a good question.  _

“He made her cry.” Everyone in the room went still; most had never heard Mercutio speak before.  His voice was the rumble of distant thunder, a coiled rage lurking within his words. A quick glance showed Darcy the murderous glare he was sending Church, who had paled considerably.  “He jested poorly and she began to cry.” 

“Wow,” Tony muttered after a quiet moment, his eyes wide.  “I thought you said he didn’t talk.”

“He usually doesn’t,” Daniel offered; his eyebrows were almost at his hairline, the shocked look on his face slowly giving way to a wide, pleased smile.  

Tony blinked once and shook his head, refocusing. “Alright.  You,” he ordered, pointing at Church, “don’t be a jerk to Darcy.  Well, to anyone, but especially her. And you,” he pointed at Mercutio, “please don’t hurt anyone unless that person is actually trying to kill or maim someone.  Got it?”

Mercutio nodded once as Tony turned his gaze to Darcy.  “And you, Lewis, you are the lion tamer here, so just keep an eye on him.  The storm should break sometime Tuesday afternoon, so I’ll send a Quinjet down to pick him up as soon as I can get through the storm. Just try not to destroy my research station until then.” 

“Sounds like a plan, boss man,” Darcy offered, snapping off a haphazard salute.  She looked over at Mercutio, who had dropped his gaze to the ground. On screen, a loud crash sounded from behind Tony; the billionaire froze in place, squeezing his eyes shut as he took as he took a deep breath.

“DUM-E, just leave it alone! If you’ll excuse me, I have some urgent matters to attend to,” Tony ground out.  As the screen went dark, the guards began talking in hushed tones.

“Yeah, bathing hopefully,” Darcy snarked.  Across the room, Mercutio let out a sharp bark of laughter.

Once again, the room fell silent, the guards gawping at Mercutio.  He looked back at them with an arched eyebrow, conveying a thorough lack of fucks given.  It was during that long, stunned silence that Darcy’s stomach let out a rumble. The attention of room turned from the alien to the assistant, but it was Daniel who broke the silence with a laugh.  

“Okay, first things first, our lion tamer needs to eat,” he said, dropping his hand from Darcy’s shoulder.   He crossed the room and opened the door, nodding his head toward the hallway. “C’mon, Short Stack, let’s get you some breakfast.” 

Shaking her head fondly, Darcy lurched out of the security office and into the hallway.  Jane was waiting in the hallway, planted on her crutches opposite the door. She was a tiny bundle of nervous energy, fingernails clicking rapidly on the metal of her crutches. 

“What happened, Darcy, what’s wrong?”  she burst out, her brow wrinkled in worry.

Darcy sighed before she answered, trying to stifle the waver in her voice.  “Baker got off his leash last night; he got hit by a car.”

“What? No!” Jane’s crutches clattered to the ground as she lurched forward and threw her arms around Darcy.  Darcy dropped her crutches to absorb the impact of the tiny whirlwind.

In Jane’s arms, she felt like she could relax; it was comfortable and safe in Jane’s embrace.  As she returned the hug, her fear bubbled over and tears started to fall again. She buried her head in Jane’s neck and cried, ignoring the sounds of her coworkers filing out of the security office behind her.  She was too upset to care that they could see her. As she cried, a heavy arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she instantly recognized the musk of Daniel’s body wash and lotion. After a few moments, once the tears had subsided,  Darcy stepped back and wiped at her face, sniffling. 

“Anyways,” Darcy started, her voice wet.  “Baker's out of surgery, but they said it’s touch and go. I’m sure he'll be fine but Mom felt so bad, like she let me down and she couldn't stop crying.”

Jane’s face crumbled.  “Fuck. I’m so sorry, Darce.”

“Me too,” Daniel echoed, squeezing her shoulders.

Darcy wiped at a stray tear and sniffed.   _ Okay, enough tears; deflectors, activate! _  “Too bad you dumped Thor, Jane; we could have used one of those healing stone thingys.”

Jane rolled her eyes, trying to smother a grin a sad pout.  “Yes, well, you know I just don’t have time for romance, what with my busy schedule and all.” She sighed dramatically, turning a longing gaze down the hall.

Darcy and Daniel glanced at each other, rolling their eyes and shaking their heads.

“What?” Jane asked, eyes darting between the two of them.

_Fuck it._  Darcy leaned toward Daniel and began speaking in a high, breathy voice. “Oh, David, you're so wonderful.  Please give me more of the sex!”

Daniel replied in a deepened voice, “Oh, Jane, my nerd goddess, please let me stroke your sexy brain while I give you the sex.” 

Jane’s face flamed red as Darcy and Daniel dissolved into giggles interspersed with exaggerated kissy noises.

“You guys know?” she asked, voice reedy and thin.

“Jane, we share a bathroom and you are neither sneaky nor quiet.”

Jane dropped her bright red face into her hands. “Oh, my god,” she whimpered, her voice muffled.  

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better, we’ve been giving Kwan serious shit about his dreamy eyes,” Daniel offered.

Jane peeked out through her fingers. “Really?”

Daniel snorted. “Oh, yeah; all of the shit.  He tried reading one of your papers; he was freaking out like a jock before finals.  He kept having to google shit, and he looked so overwhelmed.” 

Jane dropped her hands, a dopey grin on her face.  “Oh, well that’s different.”

Darcy’s stomach growled again. “Well, c’mon, I need food.” 

Without raising their heads, Jane and Daniel replied simultaneously: “And coffee.”

The headed back to the dining room, but by the time they reached it, the food had all been put away and the serving counter cleared.  Inge-Lise was seated at a table, looking at paperwork.

“Hey, Inge-Lise; got anything quick for Darcy to eat? Like granola bars or something?” Jane asked.

Inge-Lise looked up at them and clicked her tongue, frowning.  “ _ Nej _ . My Darcy will have real food.”  

Standing, Inge-Lise quickly gathered her papers.  She briskly moved through the room and into the kitchen, beckoning them after her. “ _ Kom sa.  _ My rooms are more comfortable.”

She led them through the kitchen and into the small apartment off the kitchen that she shared with her wife, Lotte.  Though the apartment was really more of studio with a bathroom and kitchenette, it was still the largest accomodation for anyone at the station.   _ Because everyone wants to be on her good side. _

Once inside the apartment, Inge-Lise gestured at the small kitchen table and chairs.  “You go sit; I have kept breakfast foods for you.”

As Darcy, Jane, and Daniel seated themselves at the table, Inge-Lise dropped a quick kiss to Darcy’s head.  The Dane began bustling about the tiny kitchenette, pulling out food and heating it up. In a matter of minutes, Darcy had a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and pancakes, and a full pot of coffee sitting beside her mug.

“Thank you so much; you are just… the best,” Darcy marveled. “Just awesome.”

Inge-Lise clapped her hand on Darcy’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze.  “ _ Selv tak, skat. _ ”

As Darcy began to eat, Jane and Daniel poured themselves coffee.  Inge-Lise took a seat by her bookcase and retrieved a ball of yarn and needles, which had made a partial... something, out of maroon yarn.  Her hands started moving, the needles flashing rapidly as she worked.

“So, why is my Darcy so sad today?” she asked, eyes focused on her work.

Darcy looked up, her mouth full of pancake.   _ Seriously?  Always when my mouth is full.  _ She reached for her coffee and took a drink, trying to swallow down her food.

“Her dog Baker got hit by a car last night,” Jane answered for her.

The  _ click-click-click _ of the needles stopped as Inge-Lise clicked her tongue again.  “ _ Nej _ ,” she said, her mouth pursing in an unhappy moue.  “Will he be good?”

Swallowing her food, Darcy spoke. “They think he’ll be fine.”  She tried to keep her voice upbeat, but it sounded thin even to her. “It just sucks; my mom is looking after him, and she’s really upset about it, like she failed.”  

At the memory of how upset her mother had sounded, Darcy’s throat started to tighten.  Clearing her throat, she changed the topic. “So, how’s things back in Denmark?”

Inge-Lise smiled wide.  “ _ Godt. _  My daughter will give another baby in spring.”

“Congratulations,” Daniel offered.  

“Mazel tov!” Darcy said, raising her mug in a toast.  “So, boy or girl?” 

Inge-Lise smiled at Darcy, then looked back down at her knitting.  “They will surprise us.”

“How much longer are you down here for?” Jane asked.

“Six months more.” 

“Oh, phew.  I was afraid you might leave before we do.  You are the only head cook I want trust,” Darcy declared.

Inge-Lise grinned.  “You are strange girl, Darcy.”

“I will take that as a compliment,” Darcy replied.  She ate another mouthful eggs, marveling at their fluffy perfection.  

“You should,” Daniel added.  “It seems to be a well-liked quality around here.” 

Darcy looked down at her plate, scribbling a pattern in the syrup with her fork as the group fell into companionable silence.

“So,” Jane said slowly after a few quiet moments, “Did Mercutio like the movie last night?”  

Darcy looked back up at the arch comment.  While Jane’s face was turned toward Daniel, her eyes were slanted in Darcy’s direction.

Daniel grinned and shrugged.  “No idea; I passed out half-way through.”

They turned to Darcy, eying her expectantly.   _ Nosey bastards. _  Swallowing her food, Darcy answered.  “The practical effects seemed to creep him out, especially that part when the head sprouts legs and creeps around.  I think he enjoyed it, but just not as much as he enjoyed the Junior Mints.”

“Cool, cool,” Daniel muttered.  He paused to take a drink of coffee before speaking again. “So, uh, I’m not crazy, right?  Space man has a thing for you, right?” 

Darcy choked on a bite of bacon.  “Uh, I don’t, I don’t think so,” she said, her ears warming.   _ What about that almost kiss last night? _  A snarky voice asked. _  Shut up!  He’s probably just… bored and horney or whatever.   _

“Oh yes, he is always watching our Darcy,” Inge-Lise added, pursing her lips.  She and Daniel stared at Darcy expectantly. But Jane… there was a shrewd glint to her eyes as she studied Darcy.  

_ Please be oblivious!Jane today, please!   _ Suddenly nervous, her hands felt shaky.  Grabbing another pancake, Darcy stuffed it into her mouth and returned her focus to her plate.   _ If my mouth is full, I can’t say stupid shit. _

“Well, in my experience, hot alien warriors tend to prefer the nerds,” Jane commented breezily.

“Which is understandable.  If I wasn’t married and, you know, gay, I’d totally be all over Darcy,” Daniel added.  “But I’m just surprised that he's got our girl all tied up in knots. Figured she would go more for skinny, hipster-nerd type.”

“She usually does,” Jane murmured.  Darcy could feel Jane’s eyes boring into her forehead.  “Though she does make exceptions for hot, latino security guards,” Jane added.  “And, apparently, muscley aliens.”

Keeping her eyes down, Darcy swallowed her mouthful of food and took a drink of coffee.“I’m not... _ going _ for him,” she muttered.  At that moment, Darcy felt her face flush again.   _ Well, shit. _

“Hah!  I knew it!” Jane yelled, slapping one small hand on the table.  “You  _ are _ into him!”  

“Well he is a damn good looking, guy.  Kinda scary, but still hot,” Daniel explained.  “I could see that turning our girl’s head.”

Giving up, Darcy groaned and looked at them.  “Okay, fine! Yes, he is hot like burning, and yes, I am super into him! Can we just move on now, please?”

Jane let out a mirthful cackle.  “Sorry, Darce, but after all the crap you gave me about Thor, I owe you some teasing.”

Darcy glowered at her friend, but made a grunt of assent as she mopped up syrup with a scrap of pancake.  “Okay, yeah, I guess you do.” As she ate the last bite of her pancake, a memory of Mercutio, blushing as he admitted to being scared by the movie, came to mind.  “But for the record, I'm not just being super shallow; it’s not just the hot musclyness that I like.”

“Oh really?  Do tell, Darcy, do tell,” Daniel said, grinning widely as he waggled his eyebrows.

“It’s not that,” she laughed out.  “It’s… I dunno. It’s weird. I mean, yeah, he can be really smug.  And he has this whole badass, tough-guy vibe going on. But when I talk, he listens.  He just focuses on me, like what I’m saying is super important. Most drop dead gorgeous soldier types don't really care about what I have to say. Not in a mean way, usually.  Like Romero; he's super hot and nice. He listens to me, but it seems to be out manners more than anything else. But for all of Mercutio’s scary glares and muscles, it's like he’s really paying attention.”

Jane’s stared at Darcy, wide eyed.  “Holy crap; you  _ really _ like him, don’t you?” she asked.

Darcy felt her face go red again.  “I dunno. It’s just, there’s something different about him.   I don’t feel like I have to impress him or act cool. There’s this… fuck, I dunno, simplicity, I guess?  It’s hard to put into words.”  _ He makes me feel like, even when I do or say something dumb, he still thinks I’m awesome just the way I am.   _ “He never makes me feel like he's just tolerating me or tuning me out. It's probably because I'm the only one who tries to talk to him.”

“Not true,” Daniel countered.  “He just doesn't answer a lot of the time, except with you.  He acts like you're the only one around here he actually wants to talk to.”

“He trusts you because you treat him good,” Inge-Lise said.  “You talk, but not like he is dumb.”

“Exactly!” Daniel said. 

“And because he thinks our Darcy is  _ smuk _ ,” the chef added.

Darcy's face flamed.

Jane frowned.  “I just missed something.”

“Beautiful,” Inge-Lise explained.

“Well, that's a given,” Jane snorted, as though anyone who disagreed with that sentiment was on par with climate change deniers.  “And it’s about time someone treated you like the wonderful person you are,” Jane said, smiling.

“Yeah, too bad he has to leave in a couple of days.  Don’t think they allow movie nights at Area 51,” she joked.

“True enough,” Daniel conceded.  “But if Stark gets to him first, who knows what will happen.”

Darcy’s stomach flipped.   _ Maybe I’ll see him after this.  Maybe—. _  She quashed that line of thinking.   _ Once he’s in the real world, surrounded by bad ass chicks and super models that show up wherever Stark is, he’ll forget who I am.  _   Darcy clicked her short fingernails against the porcelain mug in her hand, frowning as the asshole in her brain made a damn good point.

Jane stared at Darcy, shrewd eyes taking in the younger woman's discomfiture. Jane cleared her throat.  “So, change of subject. What do you want to do today?”

“Something that doesn't involve thinking,” Darcy immediately replied.  She considered her options carefully. She didn't want to be alone, and she didn't want to work. She also didn’t want to sit in silence and watch a movie, but she didn't want to talk.  _ I've had enough talking for today. _  She just wanted to laugh. As an idea occurred to her, she smiled and looked at Jane.  

“Jane Foster, I challenge you!”

Following Darcy’s declaration, it was a matter of moments for the small group to finish off the coffee and assign duties before they scattered from Inge-Lise’s rooms.  Jane and Darcy went to their rooms to gather supplies, while Daniel went to spread the word and Inge-Lise inspected her food stores. Twenty minutes later, Jane was setting up the arena with their personal snacks and blankets in the rec room, while Darcy began the task of moving furniture. Having shoved some armchairs into place,  she was trying to move a sturdy love seat from the back corner of the room toward the main t.v. area.

“Just wait and make Daniel do it,” Jane suggested.

“No, I can do it,” Darcy groaned out, trying to pull it away from the wall.   _ Usually. _  But the furniture was not cooperating.  Pulling at one armrest with all her might, she used her good foot to anchor her.  After a second, the loveseat shifted forward a few inches.

_ Man, I think I need at least two functioning legs for this.   _ With a last, frustrated grunt, she pulled until her feet slid out from under her and she landed on her butt.  “Well, crap.” 

Placing her good foot on the floor, she braced herself to try and stand.  _  This is probably gonna hurt. _

“Can I help you?” 

Darcy looked behind herself  to find Mercutio hovering in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.   _ Mmmm… muscles.  Sexy, good-for-moving-furniture muscles. _  “Yeah, that’d be awesome, thanks.” 

In a few long strides, he was at her side, bending down toward her with his arms reaching out.  Darcy gripped his arms, Mercutio’s hands wrapping around her forearms. As she tried to pull herself up, Mercutio lifted.  The muscles of his arms shifted as he pulled her up, tendons jumping beneath her hands. There was something undeniably sensual about just touching him, in feeling the flex of muscles beneath his warm skin.   _ Well, I’m screwed.  Just not literally. _  Once she was balanced on her own feet, Mercutio’s hands dropped away. 

“What else can I do?” he asked.

_ Rip my clothes off and give me a sexy massage?  _

“Well, big guy,” Darcy said, trying desperately not to pant from her earlier exertion, “we’re throwing an impromptu game party.  And this couch,” she said, pointing at the loveseat, “needs to be behind the big couch in front of the big t.v.” 

Mercutio nodded; turning, he reached out and grabbed the small couch at its back and bottom corners, lifting it in the air.  While it certainly didn’t look like he was putting forth much effort, his arms corded and shoulders flexed beneath his tight shirt as he carried the loveseat toward the large couch. She could  _ see _ each and every shift of his muscles, the shirt riding up to reveal a tattooed stomach sprinkled with dark hair.

_ Unf.  Seriously hot.   _ Darcy took a deep breath and turned away, slowly exhaling through her pursed lips.  She started limping toward the wall her crutches rested against, wincing as her ankle protested.  Mercutio appeared beside her before she’d gone more than a step, offering his forearm. Darcy linked her elbow with his and leaned against him.  

“Thanks, dude.  Sorry you gotta play ‘help-the-injured-human’.”

She began limping toward the wall again, supported by his strength.  Glancing up, she offered him a wry smile, only to find a small, half-grin on his face.  “I am always glad to help you, my lady,” he murmured.

Darcy’s stomach flipped as she felt her brain start to melt.   _ Okay, so I now officially have a chivalry kink.  Just calm down, Lewis. He’s helping, not asking you on a date!   _ Once they were at the wall, she quickly released his arm, busying herself with her crutches.  

“This time, I will beat you, Jane!”  

Darcy and Mercutio turned, finding a small contingent of personnel entering, led by Brit the Beautiful.  She was dressed in fleece one-piece pajamas, and she should have looked ridiculous. But of course, she looked gorgeous and adorable, her cheeks already flushed. _  Looks like she might have had a drink already. _

“You wish!” Jane yelled back.  “I’ll kick all your asses.”

Brit tucked a strand of long, dark hair behind her ear, eyes dragging up and down Mercutio’s form.  “Well, I have been practicing. I will win. But first, shots!”

Jane let out a whoop as Brit joined her on the couch. Darcy lurched over to the pair, just as Brit raised a bottle vodka and handed a bottle of orange juice to Jane. Jane opened the juice as Brit took a swig of vodka. The scientists switched bottles and Brit took a drink of orange juice.   _ Woman knows how to party.   _ Jane took a deep swallow of vodka, sputtering as she handed the bottle to Darcy and reached for the orange juice.  Darcy took two swallows of vodka, wincing as it burned down her throat. Brit took the vodka as Jane thrust the bottle of juice into Darcy’s free hand, which she gratefully drank.

Once the burn and taste of vodka had faded, Darcy stopped drinking the juice.   “Fuck, Brit, that is some strong shit!” 

Smiling, Brit carried the bottles with her as she headed out of the room.  “Of course it’s good; it came from Norway!”

Shaking their heads, Darcy and Jane returned to their preparations.  Darcy hobbled into the storage closet, flipping the light on. Her eyes quickly found what she was looking for.  The plastic folded table was well-used, the scratched surface marked with painted lines and triangles. Looking down at her crutches, she frowned.   _ Well, this will require assistance.  _

Turning to ask for help, she found Mercutio standing just behind her in the storage room.   _ Damn, he’s quiet.   _ He was only a few inches away from her, his massive frame filling the small space as he looked down at her.  In the close confines of the closet, she could  _ feel _ the heat emanating from his body.   A part of her wanted to reach up and rest her hands on his chest, trail them down his body. But another part of Darcy just wanted to lean forward and rest her head on his chest while Mercutio wrapped his arms around her.   _ It would be the safest place in the world.   _ It was a tempting proposition.

Darcy wrenched her thoughts back to the task at hand.  “Good sir, would you be kind enough to retrieve this table?”  

Mercutio’s mouth quirked up in a tiny smile as he stepped back, allowing Darcy to hobble back into the rec room.  By the time she turned around, he was re-emerging from the closet, one large hand clasping the table.

“Okay, big guy, let's set up and I'll teach you the basics of beer pong.”

_____________________________

“Ha! Take that, Foster! Blue shell, motherfuckers!”  Brit yelled. Having finished last in each race she’d played, the beautiful zoologist had gotten bit mean.  And nuts.

But there was a malicious light in Jane's eyes, matching the vicious slash of her grin as she loudly scoffed.  The blue shell hovered before Jane’s Princess Peach on the rainbow road. Right before the blast, Jane veered off the road.

“What the fuck?” Green asked.  At that second, Green’s Bowser and Brit’s Yoshi neared where Jane had been, and were blasted by the shell.  Latiku picked Jane up and set her back on the track just after the blast. 

“Hah! Amateurs!” Jane crowed.  Princess Peach zoomed forward, beating the other players easily to the finish line.  Green dashed over to the t.v., dropping to his knees.

“Noooo!” Green cried, shaking his fists at the ceiling.  “Every goddamn time, Foster, every time! How do you do it?”  

Darcy collapsed in a fit of giggles only partially caused by the vodka she'd ingested.

“Well, from the age of six on, I spent a lot of time in my Dad’s office at Culver, which meant a lot of hours playing games either by myself or with his TAs,” Jane explained, getting ready for her next race.

“Jane is the gaming boss! You should see her on a HALO bender when’s she got science!block,” Darcy explained between giggles.  “The best is when she kills all the douche bro gamers but doesn’t let them know she’s a woman until the end! You can  _ hear _ the tears falling into their neckbeards and funions!”

Still chuckling, Darcy drained the last of her drink: the tundra margarita.  A concoction by Dr. Gutiérrez (a Chilean meteorologist studying climate change), it was made of vodka and limeade.  It was good, but strong. In her seat beside Jane on the couch, Darcy carefully unwrapped herself from the afghan her Bubbe had made years ago.  She stood and stretched, looking about.

The room was filled with people from the station, drinking and laughing while awaiting their turn to test their gamer mettle against Jane’s.  A tournament of beer pong was going strong, with the Lotte and Dr. Zheng pairing dominating. According to Inge-Lise, Lotte had been on an Olympic gold medal handball team back in the day, so no one stood a chance. Their opponents of the current round, Beyers and Daniel, were looking pretty wrecked, eyes hazy as they tried to distract Lotte from her next throw.

Using only one crutch, Darcy hobbled over to the drink table, where a large cooking pot of the tundra margaritas sat.  She ladled some into her mug –  _ Ruth Bader Ginsburg riding a unicorn for the win! _ – and turned to the snack table.  Brit had assembled drunk snacks made from the food Inge-Lise was sure she wouldn’t need.  Using several bags of stale white bread, the Norwegian had rolled each slice flat, then cut them into triangles.  She had then sprinkled the bread slices with diced peppers and cheese before baking everything. She called them Antarctic nachos, and they were pretty damn good.  Especially after two large tundra margaritas. Darcy stacked several nachos on a small plate, set the plate on top of her mug, and began to limp back toward the couch, gaze skittering over and away from Mercutio’s silent form.

Mercutio had been leaning against a wall all afternoon, drinking quietly and watching the humans with a bemused expression.  As Darcy slowly and carefully moved away from the table, he strode over to her. He reached out for Darcy’s plate and mug.

“May I help you?” he asked.

Darcy stared up at him and blinked.  “Uh, yeah, thanks, man.”

She looked away as he took her plate and mug, and carefully made her way back to the couch.  When Darcy sat down, Mercutio stood by the couch, watching her.

“Just a sec, okay? Need to re-cozify myself here.”  She adjusted her pillows and moved her blankets around, pulling them onto her lap.  Once she was settled, Darcy looked up at him and reached for her mug and plate, wiggling her fingers, offering the smile that usually made her grandparents give her more candy.  “Okay, ready.”

He handed them to her, a small, indulgent smile on his face.  

“Thank you for your assistance, kind sir.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up as he shook his head. “You're welcome, my lady,” he replied.  He inclined his head, then turned and walked away.

As the afternoon progressed and approached early evening, Jane was still kicking ass, though her insults and trash talking had gone up to 11.  They had switched to an Avengers fighting game, and Jane had chosen Hulk, her “science bro!!” She had been kicking ass for over an hour, soundly trouncing all competitors.  As Church’s Thor fell over and lost the round, Jane leapt to her feet. “Suck it, Thunder Douche!”

Darcy laughed and began chanting: “Jane, Jane, she’s the man, if she can’t do it, no one can!!”

Church looked put out by his loss, but had a begrudging smile on his face.   _ None can resist Jane’s adorableness - adorableishness? No, adorability!   _ Church seemed relaxed, having apparently removed the stick from his ass.  His gaze moved across the room, studying the assembled coworkers before the smile suddenly dropped, replaced by a thunderous scowl.  Darcy looked around and found the source of his unhappiness. Her good humor left her just as quickly.

Brit had been Church’s crush for two months, somehow still gorgeous even in her ridiculous pajamas and messy bun.  She was standing close to Mercutio, who had resumed his place against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest. She was talking to him and smiling coyly, one elegant hand resting on his arm.  Mercutio watched her with a strange slant to his mouth and one eyebrow raised, but he hadn't moved away from her. 

In that moment, Darcy kind of wanted to hate Brit.  _ Don’t be a douche, Darcy.  Brit’s cool and super nice, and you can’t hate her just because she is better than you in literally every way and is using that awesomeness to flirt with Mercutio.  You’d be doing the same thing if you had the guts. _

Something angry and sad roiled in Darcy’s stomach, something that made her want to ruin that moment.  That something caused her to yell out: “You are awesome, Brit! You are the MacGyver of drunk snacks! To Brit!” 

Brit rocked back on her feet, placing vital inches between her and Mercutio as others raised their glasses to thank her.  Darcy quickly looked back at Church and raised her glass, trying to give off the air of one who hadn’t just interrupted a  _ moment _ .   Church gave her a small grin in return and raised his mug in the air, before taking a drink.   _ Don’t look back, don’t look back, don’t look back…. _ Darcy reoriented herself toward the t.v., a plastic grin on her face.  

Onscreen, Dr. Pradesh’s Iron Man was facing the wrong way, firing repulsor blasts offscreen as he tried to turn around.  “Stupid Iron Man!” he yelled, his life bar blinking red in warning. “You are not smart like Iron Man! Stupid fingers!”

Jane performed some controller button magic, and Hulk executed a flying double-fisted blow, smashing Iron Man.  Dr. Pradesh tossed his controller onto the table. “I am not good at these games,” he sighed mournfully.

Jane smiled him. “That’s okay, Doc. You did pretty good for a first time, and you got some good hits in.”

_ Too bad they were all accidental button-mash hits.   _ Darcy patted Dr. Pradesh’s shoulder. “Good try, Doc.  But no one can beat the Jane.” Dr. Pradesh smiled and vacated the chair beside the couch.  As Sharon, one of the station’s nurses, took the seat, Darcy noticed a figure in the corner of her eye. 

Mercutio stood, silent, a perplexed frown on his brow as he stared down at Darcy.  Her stomach knotted as she stared up him.  _ Crap. Guess he isn’t happy with being cock blocked.   _

“Heeeyyy, dude.”  _ Smooth, dumb ass, real smooth.   _ Mercutio cocked his head to the side.  He silently watched her for a moment before finally speaking.

“I have a question.”  _ And here comes the verbal smackdown.  And you totally deserve it _

Despite feeling vaguely nauseous and ashamed, Darcy kept her smile in place. “Ask away, big guy.”

“Who is MacGyver?”

Darcy barked out a relieved laugh, the knot in her stomach disappearing.  Gathering her blankets around her, she scooted further into the corner, leaving a space on the couch between her and Jane. She reached for his hand, which he immediately offered. She tugged him around the couch to stand before her.  His look of confusion had deepened, but an amused smirk curled his lips. Darcy smiled as she pulled on his arm. “Take a seat, and I will explain.” 

Nodding once, Mercutio sat beside her on the couch.  It was a tight fit, but he was so warm.  _ Would he mind if I just wrapped myself around him? _  Smiling the happy smile of a drunk, she looked up at him.  He was looking down at her, smiling wide in a way that made her breath catch.  He raised his arm and rested it along the back of the couch, behind Darcy’s head, allowing Darcy to rest against his side. 

Darcy grinned up at him, her heart fluttering in her chest.  “Allow me to explain; MacGyver is a fictional character who can do anything with anything. Give him a stick and some chewing gum, and he’ll make a bomb or a car or something.  I'm pretty sure he made a bomb out of a rusted bike once. So, since Brit can make drunk snacks out of pretty much anything, she is the MacGyver of drunk snacks.”

There was an amused tilt to his forehead, but Mercutio was grinning down at her.

“Yep! Since most of the food around here is for Inge-Lise’s menu, we can’t just grab what we want,” Jane chimed in.

“Well, you could,” Green pointed out from his seat in the recliner. “It wouldn’t turn out well, but you could.”

“Very true, on all counts,” Darcy acknowledge.  “But I prefer to keep my limbs where they are. And we’re good; just give Brit some vodka, the weirdest ingredients available, and in five minutes, she will make something amazing.  She is the superhero of the drunchies.”

“Drunchies?” 

“Drunk munchies.”

Darcy  _ felt _ the rumble of his laughter against her body.  “Midgardians are… very strange.” 

“Oh, and Asgardians aren’t?” Darcy retorted.

The smile on his face fell away, a dark look settling on his face.   _ Oh shit, sore spot! RED ALERT, RED ALERT! _

“Okay, uh - what is the weirdest food you’ve ever eaten?” Darcy blurted out.

Mercutio blinked, the haunted look in his eye fading.  His gaze focused on her again as he smiled. “Your gum bears.”

Darcy rolled her eyes.  “Fine then. What… is the weirdest alien you’ve ever seen?”  Darcy paused, eyes going wide. “Daniel!”

“Sup, Darce?” he yelled from the back of the room, his words slurring together.

“We need to show Mercutio ‘Alien’!”

“Best.  Idea. Ever!” he yelled back.

Darcy giggled at the wary look on Mercutio’s face.  “You still have to answer the question.”

Mercutio frowned, considering his answer.  “I once saw a large, talking duck.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.  His name was Howard.”

“Holy carp; I can’t tell if that’s awesome or terrifying.”  

Darcy yawned; curled up in the corner of the couch, covered in blankets and seated beside a person-shaped heating pad, she was getting sleepy.  She let her head drop against his chest, comfortably slumped. He stilled, but before she move away, his arm wrapped around her shoulders.  _ As predicted, this is indeed the warmest and safest place ever _ .  She looked up at Mercutio’s face, yawning again.  “How are you so warm?”

Mercutio smiled down at her.  “It is a gift. One I am glad to share with you,” he quietly replied.

Darcy smiled. “You’re good people.  Glad I got to meet you.” 

Looking back at the t.v., she yawned yet again.  The emotional exhaustion of that morning was catching up with her. 

As she watched Sharon’s Black Widow battle the Hulk, Darcy’s eyes slid shut.   _ I’ll rest my eyes. Just for a minute. _

___________

When Darcy woke up the dark, she was in bed and wrapped in Bubbe’s afghan.  She was in her room, if the smell of lavender body lotion was anything to go by.  She reached for her phone on the nightstand, but only found a wall of warm skin and fabric.   _ What the hell? If I'm in bed with Church I swear to glob I will walk out into the blizzard.  _  Darcy traced her hand up the mystery man’s torso, finding a broad expanse of muscle.  Whomever it was in her room (and the odds were very much in Mercutio’s favor), they had curled an arm on the bed above her head.  She was boxed in, but not trapped. Like he was trying to protect her, even in her sleep.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to remember, frowning in the dark.  _ Okay, we set up for the Mario Kart tournament, Brit made Antarctic nachos, Marco made vodka margaritas, I got drunk, Jane kicked everyone’s ass, I got really drunk, Mercutio came over….   _ The memories all rushed back, and for a second, she felt nauseous. She remembered forcing Mercutio to sit on the couch, like a 15 year old trying to flirt.  She remembered resting her head against his chest and falling asleep. He'd smelled like musk, like the bodywash she'd come to associate with Daniel's hugs. But underneath that, with the smell of his skin, was something else.   _ Like the air after rain.  What's that word? _ Whatever it was, it was the same smell that surrounded her now.  Darcy huffed. She loved that smell and had looked it up just so she'd know the term. She quietly rolled on her back, thinking.

_ Ochre? No, that's a color. _ The body beside hers stirred, inhaling and moving.  _ Okay, time to face the embarrassment. _

“Can you turn the light on?” she whispered.

The bedside lamp clicked on, her eyes saved from the brunt of the light by Mercutio's torso.  He was seated on the floor beside her bed, reclined against the bedside table with his torso curved around the corner of her bed.  _ That  _ **_can’t_ ** _ be comfortable. _

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Morning,” he whispered. Her eyeglasses were missing, but his face was close enough to see clearly as he continued speaking.  “Are you feeling better?”

Darcy yawned and stretched; buried beneath her blanket, surrounded by him, she felt protected.  “Yeah, I am. Did you carry me to bed?”

He nodded once, slowly.

_ Silent as the Sphinx.  _ “Well, thanks for that.  A drunk and on-crutches Darcy probably isn't the best idea.”

He shrugged, the gesture bringing a memory to mind.  She suddenly remembered Brit, the supermodel-esque babe flirting with Mercutio, resting her hand on his chest.  She recalled the wave of jealousy, and how she’d interrupted their moment.  _ Not cool, Lewis.  Not cool.  _  Darcy blushed as her stomach knotted in utter humiliation.

“Sorry I interrupted things with you and Brit,” she muttered, looking away.  “I think she's really into you.”

Darcy hazarded a glance at him, only to see a thoughtful frown on his face.  He looked at the wall, quiet for a short time before he spoke. “I did not want her attention,” he finally whispered, looking down into her eyes.  The hand resting on the bed above her head moved to brush the hair away from her face. There was a ghost of a smile on his face, his eyes dark and inscrutable as he studied her.  “I prefer your company,” he confessed, his voice hushed. Mercutio angled his body toward her, his other hand coming up to brush against her cheek. 

Darcy stared at him, watching in shock as a light flush dusted his cheeks. She blushed in response, trying futilely to suppress her sudden smile.   She reached up to press her fingers against the hand stroking her hair, linking their fingers together. “Oh. Okay.”

One side of of his mouth quirked up in a grin as he trailed his thumb against her jaw, his touch light.  “I want to thank you.”

“For what?”

“You.”

Darcy wrinkled her nose. “Huh?”

Mercutio chuckled. He returned his hand to her hair, gently running his fingers through it.  “Others see me for what they need, an attack dog or bed warmer. But you see... me.”

For all that his words were simple, the was an urgency in his gaze, something yearning. Darcy could feel her blush extend all the way to her ears.  _ I probably look like a tomato.  _ She wanted to make a joke.  But all she could offer was: “oh.”

A small wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows as he stared down at her. “The storm will break tomorrow.” 

_ Shit, that’s right.  The storm breaks and then it's off to Area 51.   _ Darcy’s heart clenched, sinking into her stomach. “I forgot about that.” 

Mercutio's gaze turned wistful as he swallowed hard.  “You are unlike anyone I’ve ever known.”

Darcy swallowed as she felt her face go beet red again, both thrilled at his longing and ashamed of the glee she felt at his sadness.   _ Ugh, stupid emotions! _  Unable to parse her own feelings, she blustered.  “Of course; I mean, do they even make short Asgardians?” 

Chuckling, Mercutio shook his head, staring down at her, and it warmed Darcy almost as much as the fingertips he trailed from behind her ear and down her throat.  She shivered, watching as his pupils dilated. 

“Oh, Darcy,” he marveled, his voice filled with a reverence more suited to the grandeur of  Niagara Falls than a lab monkey from Syracuse. He leaned down toward her hesitantly, his motions stuttering as he grew closer.  Just his proximity sent her pulse humming beneath her skin, her breath suddenly thin as his face stopped inches from hers. She  _ wanted _ ; wanted to kiss him, touch him.  She licked her lips. 

Mercutio’s eyes darkened, and something in his demeanor shifted, the man changing from supplicant to predator.  Darcy felt exposed, utterly vulnerable beneath him as his fingers continued to whisper against her throat. She shivered, arousal starting to flicker her veins.  He closed the distance between them, running the bridge of his nose along her jaw, his warm breath dancing over her throat. He pressed his lips to the hinge of her jaw, then slowly skimmed over her cheek to her her lips.  His mouth lingered, lips soft against Darcy’s. With a soft inhale, Mercutio tilted his head and moved his hand to cradle her cheek. Supine, Darcy pressed up against his mouth, their lips It was a sweet, simple kiss, but the light sensual touches had Darcy aching for him as his scent surrounded her.  

_ Petrichor.  _ _ He smells like petrichor. _

When he pulled away from her, his eyes were dark, hungry, and Darcy felt that good, low down throb of want.  

“You are so beautiful, so...” he husked out, his voice filled with awe.

_ Seriously? A hot, sweet guy wants me, and he has to leave? Fuck. _

A nasty voice inside her head chimed in.  _ Unless he just wants sex. _

_ Shut up! He could have dropped me off and then gone to find Brit! _

That nasty voice fell silent.

“I’m so what?” she finally said.

“Wondrous.” 

Darcy raised her hand, resting it upon his cheeks.  She brushed her fingers over his beard, let her thumb brush across his lips.  “So are you.”

From somewhere behind Mercutio, a mournful beep sounded from her phone. It was like ice water, breaking the quiet spell between them. 

Darcy swallowed down her sudden sadness and sat up to look around.  “Any idea where my phone is?”

“Yes,” he said, reaching behind himself to retrieve her phone from the nightstand.  He offered it to her. The phone was dim, having gone to power save mode. But that wasn't what drew her focus.

Just below the time (four a.m.), there was a text message on the lock screen from her mom at 10 pm:

“ _ Baker is fine. But why did Tony fucking Stark send a medivac team?” _


	4. Chapter 4

“ _ Baker is fine. But why did Tony fucking Stark send a medivac team?” _

_ Wait, what?  _ Darcy stared at her phone screen, only half aware of the quizzical hum she made in the back of her throat as she reread the message again and again.

“Darcy?” Mercutio asked, his voice hushed, concern pulling at the edges.

Darcy shook her head.  “So, it would seem that Tony Stark paid for a team of specialists to take my dog someplace with better doctors.”

“Oh. Well, that's good?” 

Darcy glanced over at him, at the confused but hopeful tilt of his brow.  She paused in thought. 

“Oh yeah, it’s really good.  I mean, he probably did it to make sure you wouldn’t have a reason to destroy the station, but as long as I don’t have to pay for it, it’s a really good thing.”

Heaving a sigh of relief, she dropped onto the bed, her head resting on his arm as she punched her fist into the air.  “Yay for rich bosses! Woo hoo!”

Mercutio chuckled, a low, rolling sound that made her stomach tighten as her ears wared.  His hazel eyes crinkled as he took her hand between his. He softly brushed thumb across the sensitive skin of her palm as his fingers traced the visible veins.  He slowly raised her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips across her knuckles.  _ Holy hand grenade of Antioch.  _ There was the typical romantic/chivalrous association with the gesture, but this was so much more to it.

“I can still destroy it if you’d like,” he offered, the words softly murmured against her skin as his facial hair prickled against her fingers.  He continued brushing his lips across her knuckles, slowly, almost as though he were…  _ luxuriating _ in the act.  Enjoying it. Sort of like the way Darcy enjoyed the super-expensive chocolates she bought herself during the after-Valentine's sales. She would eat them slowly, a bite at a time, drawing out the pleasure of a rare treat.  The way he dragged his lips across her….  _ Like I’m his special treat.   _ Darcy looked away, swallowing around the sudden lump in her throat.

“Uh….  Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.  If you hurt Jane’s equipment, she would definitely find a way to kill you.  And if she didn’t, Stark probably would.”

Mercutio chuckled, the crisp hair of his beard tickling at her fingers.  “Stark; the Man of Iron?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Who told you that? Thor?”

Mercutio froze, eyes going wide.  He cleared his throat before speaking.  “Others here speak of him.”

Darcy grinned. “Oh, I know they do. But Thor is the only one who calls him ‘The Man of Iron.’”

Mercutio was silent for a moment, visibly deflating before he finally sighed, grinning ruefully.  “I am not good with words.”

Her heart lurched at the way he seemed to shrink in on himself.  “You do well enough,” she countered, smiling.

He shook his head and scoffed.  “You are the first to say that. Most claim I am too dumb or too arrogant.”

“Well, you seem smarter than Church,” Darcy retorted, curling up on her side to face him fully.  “And you don’t seem arrogant to me.” She paused and wrinkled her nose. 

“Except for when you stare people down, ‘cause then you have that whole ‘don’t even try it, son, I will take you out’ thing going on. Which is more confidence in your abilities than arrogance.”

Mercutio chuckled, the low sound sending a shiver up Darcy’s spine.  “I usually boast more; but I find myself lacking anything to boast of.”

Darcy cleared her throat.  “Well, you didn’t even have to brag to do well with Brit.”  _ Or me. _

His grin quirked up on one side.  “She did most of the talking.” Mercutio’s grin faded.  “I don't think she cared if I even spoke.”

“Well, I think most guys would be okay with that when it's someone so beautiful.”

His frowned, eyes studying her. “A short time ago, that would have been enough.” He reached out again, wrapping one of Darcy’s curls around a finger.  He focused on his hand, a blush spreading across his cheeks. 

“But now, I desire something more.” His eyes met hers, his gaze heavy with desire and affection.   But there was something else in his eyes, something like longing.  _ Fuck, I'm too tired to figure this out.  Is there an app for this? There should be an app for this. _

Darcy was saved from trying to find a response by a knock on the metal hallway door. Mercutio’s expression went flat, his muscles going rigid as he stood.

He opened the door, and through the gap between his legs, Darcy could see Green laying on the ground with bloodshot eyes. 

“Please,” he whined, “Can we go back to your room? There’s that chair I can sleep in, and a blanket, and it’s just all around better.  Please?”

Darcy let out an indelicate snort of laughter.  “I’ll see you in the morning, Mercutio. Thanks for bringing me to my room.”

Mercutio turned around, eyes on the floor, a soft smile on his lips. “Good night, Darcy.”  As he turned away, his eyes darted up to her before he stepped through the door. 

“Good night, Mercutio.”

_____________

Darcy’s alarm went off at 7:00 a.m., a painful screech against the pounding in her head.  She rolled over and grabbed her phone, shutting off the alarm. Once silenced, Darcy slapped at her bedside lamp until it turned on, knocking over a bottle on the nightstand.  The light stabbed at her exhausted, mildly-hungover brain. 

_ Damn, where’s a giant Asgardian light-shield when you need one?  _  Darcy flopped back onto her bed, staring up at the grey metal ceiling.  She yawned, tears pricking at her eyes as she stretched. She needed to get up.  She needed to get Jane up. She needed to start the day. 

She needed to call her mom.  Darcy sighed and rubbed her eyes.  Lifting her phone, she turned it on and called her Mom.

_ “Darcy!”  _ Rachel’s voice was upbeat, positive.  Just the tone of her voice unlocked some of the knots in her stomach.

“Hey Mom.  Any update?”

_ “I think he’s gonna be okay.  Stark sent Baker to a massive animal hospital in Manhattan.  They had to do another surgery, but he’s stable for now. There’s still a chance for complications, but the doctors are ‘cautiously optimistic’.” _

Darcy sighed, relieved tears pricking at her eyes.  “Thank Zeus. What about you? Are you okay?”

_ “Yeah.  Bekah brought over some take out, had a couple glasses of wine, and slept for nine hours straight.  You?” _

“We had a video game tournament.”

_ “Hah! Did Jane kick everyone’s asses?” _

“Oh yeah; she wiped the floor with them.  Well, except for Beyers and Daniel. By the time they were supposed to play against Jane, there were  _ trashed. _  Inge-Lise’s wife, Lotte, and Dr. Zheng kicked their asses at beer pong.  It was hilarious, but after a while, I fell asleep and kinda missed out on the rest of the night.  It was a lot fun.” 

_ “Good. Well, I gotta get ready for work.  We’ve got a huge shipment going out so I need to make sure everything's in order.” _

“Yeah. And I should probably go see if Jane is even in her bedroom or if she passed out in the rec room.”

_ “Okay. Have a good day, baby. Love you.” _

“I love you too, Mom.”

Darcy hung up, feeling like she could finally breathe easier.  But beyond the light pounding in her brain, there was something else bothering her.  There was still a small, unhappy knot in her stomach. Something a little bit nervous and unhappy.

_ Yeach. I feel like I have final exam tomorrow. Fuck it. C’mon Lewis, it’s nothing a gallon of coffee can’t fix.   _ Mind made up, Darcy stood, her foot knocking into a full water bottle.  It was unopened, and Darcy hadn’t brought it in; someone had brought it in for her.  That knot in her stomach roiled, but she pushed it down and made her way into Jane’s room.  

Once inside, she turned on Jane’s bedside light.  Darcy immediately clapped her hand over her mouth to muffle a bark of laughter. Jane was sleeping on top of her covers, rolled up in a throw blanket and burrowed under her pillows. An empty platter, likely once containing nachos, was on the bed next to her, one the scientist’s hands splayed across the plastic surface.  Darcy crept back to her room to grab her phone, returning to take pictures. She took two, then started recording video. 

“Jane,” Darcy singsonged.

Jane mumbled into the covers. Darcy tried again, louder.

“Janie.” 

Jane frowned, moaning unhappily.  

Grinning, Darcy yelled.  “Jane! Wake up!” 

Jane sat up, flailing, only half her hair still in it’s braid as she looked around the room.  “Darcy?”

“Hey Jane, time to get up. We have science to conquer.”

“Oh, science. I love science,” Jane muttered with a sleepy smile.  “Coffee first?”

“Coffee first.”

When they finally shuffled into the dining room, the mood was subdued.  Typically, the room was fairly empty, most of the scientists and staff preferring to eat their breakfast in their labs.  But typically, Inge-Lise didn’t serve eggs and bacon on Mondays. Most of the people in the room looked to be some variation of hungover and/or exhausted, while others just seemed sad to return to their regular schedule after their Sunday funday.  Church looked vaguely green over his empty plate and cup of coffee, while Green merely looked sleepy. Meyers was missing, and Daniel appeared to have fallen asleep while propped up on his fist. Mercutio wasn’t in sight, which only made that unhappy feeling in Darcy’s stomach worsen.

“Everyone looks hungover and tired; all the hallmarks of a good party,” Darcy joked.  

“Good party,” Jane muttered. “Need bacon and pancakes.”

Darcy laughed.  “Jane, don’t ever change.”

__________

Darcy had one main rule: unless they were on the edge of a breakthrough, Jane  _ had _ to take Sundays off.  Most Mondays, it gave Jane a fresh start with a bright, infectious energy that got the lab buzzing.  By nine a.m., Darcy would have music playing, the two of them bobbing their heads to the song while they worked. Jane, after inhaling about 4,000 calories of food and four cups of coffee, was back to her usual, science mad self.  But on this Monday, Darcy just couldn’t get her energy up. 

She scrolled through her ipod, cherry picking songs that made her want to dance.  Lady Gaga, Foo Fighters, the Monkees; none of them helped. It was time for war against her brain. She cranked up the speakers for her ipod and pressed play.  As the first synth strains played, Jane's head snapped up. Even hungover with dark circles under her eyes, Jane’s entire focus had shifted from the data before her to Darcy.

“Darcy, why have you broken the Rickrolling Accords of 2013?” she asked.  Her voice was flat and even, promising a vengeance of biblical proportions. 

Darcy paused the music and raised her hands in surrender.  “Sorry, Boss. But pursuant to coda 1 of said Accords, I am invoking the ‘need of rickrolling’ clause.”

“Very well.” Jane nodded, conceding Darcy’s point. Darcy pressed play, and it worked.  By the time Rick Astley was actually singing, Darcy had commenced with her version of the singer’s “white boy sway and snap.”  For Jane and Darcy, Rick Astley was the nuclear option, to be used only in the direst of circumstances; it was their Hail Mary play.  But by the time the chorus started, Darcy and Jane were singing along at the top of their lungs, swaying and snapping to the beat of the song.  

The song ended and her ipod started playing the next song on Darcy’s awesomely 80’s playlist.  The women settled back down in their seats, resuming their work.

“So, now that  _ that’s _ over, just what caused you to invoke coda 1?”

Darcy shrugged. “I dunno, just feeling a bit….”  _ Like everything and nothing is wrong.   _

“Hungover?” 

Darcy laughed.  “Well, yeah,  _ that _ ; but, I dunno.”

“Magenta?” Jane suggested.  

“Yes! Magenta! Thank you!  God bless ‘The Golden Girls’.”

“Amen. But Baker’s still okay, right?”

“Oh yeah, the vets said it’s looking good.”

“Okay, so what’s the issue?”

Darcy pushed the laptop away and dropped her head onto her hands.  She sighed into her palms. Her heart beat one, two, three times as she took a deep breath.  

“I dunno, I’m just bummed, I guess?” She paused and began playing with a stray thread from her cuff of her sweater.  Jane didn’t prompt her, just waited.  _  And that’s why Jane is awesome.   _ “Did you see Mercutio take me to my room last night?”

Jane grinned.  “I may have noticed that.  And heard Green in the hallway complaining about you guys sleeping while he had to sit on the floor when Church helped me to my room.”

Darcy dropped her jaw and gasped in faux shock.  “Janie! You collecting security guys?”

Jane shrugged. “Hey, a drunk, injured scientist on crutches can’t turn down help carrying her tray of nachos. Gotta protect the money-maker,” she glibly answered, gesturing to her brain.

“Very true.  Without said brain, I'd probably be working for a politician.” Darcy punctuated her statement with a dramatic shudder.

Jane snickered before speaking. “So, what happened with Big and Sexy?”

“It was sweet.  And sort of romantic.  Like good rom-com romantic.  He just  _ sat _ with me, Jane. He just sat on the floor and slept beside me. And when I woke up, he told me how awesome I am and kissed me.”

“What?” Jane’s eyes bugged out as she stumbled over to Darcy, lurching from surface to surface, crutches forgotten. She grabbed the younger woman by the shoulders. 

“He kissed you and you’re just telling me this?”  Jane started to shake her. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Because it was just one small, baby kiss!”

Jane released her and stepped back again, composing herself.  “Okay, okay. So kissing… what’s the issue here? Hot guy lips are usually not a problem.”  Her eyes narrowed. “Wait, was he rude to you? Did he  _ try _ something?   Cause I swear to Friggia, if he did—.”

“No, he was really sweet!  He even left me a bottle of water for this morning.  And he said all this nice stuff about me, and it was just…  _ really  _ fucking romantic.” Darcy groaned.  “And then he pointed out that he’d probably have to leave tomorrow when the storm broke.”

“Oh, right.  That is pretty much the textbook definition of a bummer. So, what exactly did he say?” she asked, resting her hip against Darcy’s desk.

“He thanked me for being me.  He wanted to thank me for being nice to him, for being his friend. And I felt so bad, because I totally cock-blocked him and Brit.  So, I apologized, but then he said he preferred my company, which is crazy. And he kissed me, and kissed my hand it was just… whoa, you know?  Like, is this really my life?”  _ Oh god, I sound like an idiot. _  Darcy paused and took a breath before continuing, her words coming faster.  “I just feel like this can’t be real, but I’m pretty sure it actually happened!  But he seems to like me, and I really like him. I dig the whole ‘sexy hot guy who thinks I’m adorable’ thing.   And it sucks because I’m sad that he’s leaving and it’s just too much to deal with while I’m hungover, and then there’s this stupid fucking voice in my brain telling me that I should be glad he’s leaving before he figures out that he doesn’t want me because I’m just  _ me _ .”  

Darcy stopped talking and sighed.  

Jane’s face went soft, eyes wide and sad. “You don’t really think that, do you?”

Darcy quieted and stared at her hands, picking at her cuticles.  “I dunno. I mean, look; Thor loved you, Jane. Small, cute, and brilliant beyond words. Tony Stark loves Pepper Potts. Tall, gorgeous, and brilliant beyond words.  Notice a pattern?”

“Point and compliment taken. But I see you; smart, kind, and super sexy.”

_ Not that hot; and I’m sure as shit not as hot as you or Brit. _  Darcy said nothing, but she could feel Jane’s eyes studying her closely.

“Do you know why Thor liked me?” Jane finally said.

“‘Cause you’re ridiculously pretty and a genius?” Darcy offered, looking up at her friend.

Jane’s cheeks pinked.  “He said he liked my determination, my devotion to my work.  He liked my passion for the stars, that I had prioritized that above all else.  And he liked the effect I had on him. He loved that I challenged him, he said I gave him the freedom to be himself and not just the role he’d be brought up in. Maybe Mercutio just feels like he can be himself around you.”

“Which is funny since no one knows his real name,” Darcy joked, both the joke and her smile falling flat.

Jane shot Darcy a small but quelling glare.  “Look, you may not be a physicist or business mogul, but you’re  _ you _ , you’re Darcy Lewis, and you are brilliant.  You watch CSPAN for fun and scream at the t.v.; you understand people.  You get how we work. And you are kind, and sweet, and big hearted. And I think you’re pretty damn beautiful.” Jane nodded decisively.  “So yeah, it sucks that he’s probably on schedule to spend a couple of years in a small cell in Area 51, but hey…” she trailed off, gesturing. Her hands kept gesticulating for several seconds before she finally dropped her hands, apparently unable to find the right words. “Smoke if you got ‘em?” 

Darcy burst out laughing.

_______________

By the time Jane and Darcy stopped for dinner, it was eight o’clock.  The day had passed, filled with numbers and data as Jane had varied the antenna’s output.  Hungry and brain dead, they hobbled into the dining room. Inge-Lise selected chefs specializing in different kinds of cuisine, hoping to add some color to the station’s routine.  It worked, and that night, the kitchen was serving Southeast Asian cuisine. As they sat down with their food and started eating, Jane and Darcy let out matching moans of delight. 

“‘Sho good,” Jane said around a mouthful of green curry.

Darcy nodded in agreement, slurping up more Pho. She moaned.  God, it was so good.

“Geeze, Lewis; I knew you loved Pho, but I didn’t know you  _ loved _ Pho.”

Darcy didn’t bother to look up from her bowl to flip Daniel off.

Daniel laughed as he dropped into the seat beside Jane, setting down a plate of strudel.  The chair beside Darcy was pulled out, and Mercutio sat beside her, clad in a dark maroon sweater.  Darcy looked over at him, a momentary wave of self-consciousness hitting her. But Mercutio simply smiled at her, every inch of him radiating happiness at just  _ seeing _ her.  It was too cute and far much to deal with.  Darcy gave him a small smile, then returned to eating.  

Jane stared and frowned at Mercutio.  “Did you always have a sweater?” she finally asked.  

Darcy snorted, barely able to swallow before the spicy broth could go out her nose.   She chuckled at the confused looks Mercutio and Daniel were giving Jane.

“No Jane, he didn’t. It’s new,” Daniel explained.  

Darcy turned to Mercutio.  “Where’d you get it?”

“Inge-Lise.  She said I looked cold and made it for me,” he said, smiling fondly.

“That was really nice of her,” Jane commented.  Mercutio nodded as she continued. “But were you actually cold?”

Mercutio shook his head.

Jane returned her attention to her plate and took another bite, unconcerned at the sudden silence.  

Daniel raised his eyebrows, smiling as he shook his head.  “Well it’s not a new sweater, but I’ve got some good news, Darce.”

Darcy slurped up a spoonful and looked up.  She narrowed her eyes and studied him. He had a pleased, smug grin on his face.  It was a grin filled with excitement. Darcy’s eyes went wide.

“Oh my god, did Michael get the job?”

Daniel gave her a wide toothy grin.  “Yep. We’ll be coworkers in a couple of months!”

“YESSS!” Darcy punched both fists up in the air.  Jane, mouth still full of food, gave an excited thumbs-up, then clapped and made a happy sound in her throat. 

“He’s pretty damned excited; he’s going to be managing the biology labs, so he’s going to love that.”

“And you’ll be working at the same facility as me,” Darcy added. “Which is the best part.”

“Of course; I mean, what would I do without my daily Darcy fix? You feel me, right?” Daniel asked, looking at Mercutio.  

Mercutio didn’t speak, but he looked at Darcy and nodded. Darcy refocused on her Pho, ignoring the warm flicker in her belly.

_______________

Sleepy and full of food, Darcy and Jane had immediately headed to their rooms after dinner.  Yet despite a lack of quality sleep the night before, Darcy couldn’t fall asleep. She kept tossing and turning, a swelling bubble of nervous energy keeping her awake no matter how much she tried to calm herself.  She even watched cartoons on her phone for two hours, then tried to sleep again. But it was all for naught, and at one a.m., she got up.

Clad only in her pajamas, slippers, and a hoodie, Darcy lurched through the station. It was eerily quiet throughout the facility, the only sounds the clicking of her crutches, the hum of the heating system, and beyond that, the howl of the wind outside. She bypassed the coffee bar in the dining room, loaded with cocoa packets and tea bags, and went into the kitchen. Inside, she opened the pantry and reached for the hidden peppermint schnapps bottle and the tub of cocoa mix. There was less schnapps than last time, but Darcy’s label (“Poison!!! Do not drink!!!”) was still affixed. 

Darcy had just turned on the electric kettle when the kitchen door opened and closed behind her.  She looked over her shoulder to find Mercutio standing in the doorway, arms crossed.

“Hey, where’s your shadow?” she asked.

“Beyers fell asleep watching a program.”

Darcy snapped her fingers.  “Right, Beyers.” She turned back to the counter and began scooping cocoa mix into mug.  “I always think his name’s Beyers, but then I think, ‘wait, it is really Meyers and I just want his name to be Beyers because of Will Beyers?’  So, I keep convincing myself his name is the opposite.” Darcy cut her rambling off with a shake of her head. “Anyways, I’m making cocoa, want some?”

Mercutio joined her at the counter, his steps silent. “I haven’t tried it.” 

The water started boiling and the kettle clicked off.  Darcy spooned in cocoa mix, filled her cup part way with hot water, then added a bit of cold water, and a healthy splash of schnapps.  “It always tastes better with milk, but there isn’t a ton of spare milk, and I don’t wanna make Inge-Lise mad.” 

He huffed out a small, half-laugh through his nose.  “Are you all afraid of her? She doesn’t seem dangerous to me.”

Darcy snorted.  “Well, there aren’t many options down here, so if she gets pissed and sticks us with beans and rice for a month, we can’t do much about it.  It’s better to keep on her good side.”

Mercutio chuckled.  Turning to face him, she offered him the mug, her eyes darting down to the fond grin on his face.  “Wanna try it?” 

He took the cup from her and held it in front of his mouth.  He inhaled, then took a small sip. His eyes widened in surprise.  

“It is very good,” he said, offering Darcy her mug.  

“Keep it, I’ll make myself another.” Darcy turned away and set about doing so.  Her hands were suddenly shaky under his regard, stomach filled butterflies.  _ Or bees.  It feels like there’s any swarm of bees in there.  Angry ones.  _ Once she had a second cup prepared, she turned and faced Mercutio again.  

She wanted to speak, but the exhaustion seemed to have robbed her of any words. Darcy took a sip of her cocoa, wincing at the overload of schnapps.   _ Oh well, maybe it’ll knock me out. _  She kept her eyes in front of her, his powerful torso directly in her line of sight.

“So, can’t sleep?” she finally asked.  He shrugged.

“Restless,” he murmured.

“Me too,” Darcy admitted.  “I feel exhausted and wound up; it’s a crappy combination.”  She set her mug on the counter, then braced her hands on the counter to boost herself up.  It was a bit tricky with an injured ankle. Mercutio moved closer and rested his hands on her hips.  Darcy looked down and swallowed. His hands were so large that his thumbs bracketed her belly button, large fingers gently cradling her hips.   _ Fuck.  His thumbs are long enough to touch my — stop it Darcy!   _ Face suddenly flaming, she looked up his face.  

“May I assist you?” he asked.  His voice was constant low rumble, one that always had the ability to spiral down her spine and light a fire in her belly.  And his eyes… they were dark and hungry, focused on her face and taking in every blink of her eyes, each lick of her lips. Instead of squeaking out a response, Darcy merely nodded.  He gripped her hips firmly and slowly raised her until she was able to sit on the countertop. Seated there, Darcy found herself staring at his neck, his body between her spread knees.

“Thanks,” was all she managed to say, her voice suddenly tight.  She looked up to offer him a weak but grateful smile, only to find him bending down his head.  He stopped when his mouth was by her face.

“It was my pleasure.” The words were murmured into Darcy’s ear, his breath softly stirring her hair and caressing her skin.  A shudder rocketed through her, tightening her nipples and making her throb.  _ Seriously? I didn’t even bring my toys for comfort. God damn it. _

Mercutio’s hands slowly traveled down her thighs to rest on her knees, thumbs mindlessly tracing the snowflake designs on her fleece pajamas.  He was so close, radiating warmth in the chilly kitchen. Darcy closed her eyes; she wanted him. Wanted him to wrap his arms around her, wanted to trace the muscles beneath the sweater.  She just  _ wanted _ , with an intensity that made her heart pound.

Licking her lips, Darcy turned her head and met his gaze.   She lifted her arm and rested hand on the back of his neck. His skin was warm as her fingers stretched, brushing over the stubble of his shorn scalp.  Mercutio shuddered, his eyelids dropping into a hooded gaze, pupils dilating. Darcy leaned forward, just a hair’s breadth, until she could feel his breath against her lips.  Warm and scented with mint, it sent another shiver through her body that settled in her groin, causing her pussy to clench. With a low groan, Mercutio pressed their mouths together.  

His mouth was firm against hers, his soft lips closed.  It was like a first kiss; undemanding and sweet. But Darcy wanted more.  As she pressed into the kiss, he tilted his head and kissed her harder, his lips parting so each exhale dancing over her lips.  She deepened the kiss, darting her tongue out the flick across his lower lip. Groaning, he shuddered, his hands reaching up bury themselves in her hair.  He was in front of her, around her, but unlike their kiss that morning, the one was hungry.

He licked across her lower lip once, then again, his tongue touching Darcy’s and making her whimper.  When Mercutio’s teeth gently grazed her lip, she gasped. She wanted more, wanted him desperate. She pulled his lower lip between her teeth, biting, which only made his hold her tighter against him, before she sucked on his lip, teasing.

Soon enough, their tongues were slickly sliding together as they panted into each other’s mouths, sharing their breath.  And on top of it all, that smell of petrichor surrounded her as his beard scratch against her skin. As far as beards went, his was comparatively soft, but it add another sensation to the heady mix of his taste and scent.  She couldn’t help but want to feel it all across her body. Between her breasts, down her belly, between her thighs. Letting out an aching moan, Darcy moved her hands to his broad shoulders, digging her short nails into his sweater.  She could feel the corded muscles there flexing as one arm wrapped around her waist, his other hand cupping her face. Darcy broke the kiss to suck in a breath, which Mercutio took as permission to move lower. 

He pressed his mouth to her throat, trailing his lips down to her pulse point.  He sucked gently on her skin, drawing a whimper from her. His beard brushed at her skin as he nipped at the pale, tender expanse of her neck before soothing it with his tongue.  He dragged his tongue along her throat as though he were tasting her, then moved up to flick his tongue at her earlobe before biting and sucking at the hinge of her jaw. Darcy let out a gasp, a small, strangled sound as she arched her back to press against Mercutio.  He inhaled sharply, then moaned. It was a deep, hungry sound torn from his his chest, needy. He tightened his hold around her waist, pulling Darcy to the edge of the counter and tight against his torso.  _ Fuck _ . She could feel his cock against her belly, hard and deliciously large.  God, she could feel herself getting wet, her pussy clenching around nothing but wanting.  Darcy wanted to take him to bed, to ride him for all he was worth, and then wake up to that dimpled smile.  She wanted to wake up with him again and again, always by her side. 

Icy sadness suddenly blossomed inside her, reminding her of what would happen tomorrow.  _ Today.   _ Darcy pressed at his shoulders, trying to push him away.  His lips kept teasing behind her ear, drawing more sounds from her.  She pushed again and his mouth stilled, his hands dropping from her suddenly.  Mercutio moved to step away, but Darcy didn’t want him gone; she just needed to think.  

“Don’t go,” she husked out.  She dug her fingers into his sweater and dropped her forehead against his chest  She took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to regain some semblance of control. He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her against him.  Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his neck, turning to rest her cheek against his chest. After giving herself a few moments to calm down, soothed by the steady beat of his heart, Darcy leaned back and looked up at Mercutio.  Which was a serious mistake because hot damn, he was looking at her like he was desperate for her, like he wanted to drag her to bed and  _ ruin _ her. 

“You smell so sweet, my Darcy.” His spoke in a low, rolling tone, lifting one hand to brush his thumb across her cheekbone.  “I keep imagining how you would taste, the sounds you would make.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling deeply as if trying to center himself.  When he opened his eyes, his expression was filled with deep sadness. His mouth twisted in a bitter smirk.  “I finally—.” He fell silent, jaw clenching. “I just met you, and tomorrow I leave you. It seems fitting,” he ground out.

Slowly, Mercutio pulled away from her, resting against the steel counter behind him.  He assumed his customary position of arms crossed over his chest. It was a pose that usually spoke to some degree of arrogance or boredom.  But now, it just seemed lonely.

Darcy’s hands were shaking with adrenaline, arousal and a sudden wave of sadness; she needed to do something with them.  She reached out and grabbed her mug; though the cocoa had cooled, she still drank it down quickly. When she finished, Darcy carefully lowered herself to the floor.  Mercutio moved, handing Darcy her crutches before stepping back. She reached out and snatched his hand in hers, pulling him close. Raising up her toes as best she could, she pulled down on his hand.  Mercutio lowered his face to hers, and Darcy pressed a kiss to his jaw, then released him. 

“Good night, Mercutio.”

“Good night, Darcy.”

Taking a shuddering breath, Darcy turned away and left him behind.

_____________

Darcy was in the middle of a dream. She was in London, looking for Baker.  He had been kidnapped by Dark Elves, but Jane and Thor were too busy fighting over the last pop tart to help.  The longer she looked, the more terrified and desperate she became. The buildings around her turned sinister, looming up into the sky like jagged shards, while shadows grew long and dark as she heard Baker’s pitiful whines all around her.

DARCY. 

Someone was calling her

DARCY.

“Darcy!”  Jane’s yell woke her up. Darcy struggled to stand, hand flailing about in the dark room.  The bathroom door opened, light flooding in. Finally standing, Darcy squinted into the light and fumbled for her glasses.

“Darcy, I was in the lab, and I saw the security team leading Mercutio out of here!  Someone’s here to take him!”

Jane opened Darcy’s bedroom door and charged out into the hallway with as much speed as her crutches would allow.  Darcy stumbled out after her, lurching forward on her crutches, following Jane as fast as she could. They went down the hallway, past the rest of the housing wing, then the medical wing and security office.  When Darcy and Jane reached the garage entrance, they finally stopped and looked inside. 

Green, Meyers, and Daniel surrounded Mercutio at a safe distance, dressed for the cold with weapons in hand.  From the doorway, Darcy couldn’t tell if they had Stark’s non-lethal guns, or real guns. With a loud groan, the large garage door slid open as Church pulled it.  Darcy and Jane crept in, staying in the shadows. 

Outside, the snowfall had somewhat slowed, though fat snowflakes were falling on a quinjet.  The ramp lowered and Iron Man stepped out, followed by a smaller figure dressed in black from head to toe, and six men.   Four of the men remained outside, facing the entrance, while Iron Man and the other three entered the garage. Darcy recognized Kwan and Romero, the last of the station’s security contingent.  They moved away from the doorway, Romero standing beside Green. Kwan zeroed in on Jane and Darcy, quickly crossing the garage to stand by them.

Once he joined them, his eyes remained fixed on Jane.  “You two shouldn’t be in here. If he decides not to go, there could be some danger.” 

Jane smiled up at him and scoffed.  “And risk hurting Darcy? No way.”

Darcy ignored them, focusing on Iron Man.  His faceplate slid away, revealing Tony Stark’s curious gaze.

“So, this is Mercutio?” he asked.  Tony sauntered up to the being in question, swaggering as much as a man in a metal suit could.  _  Seriously Stark? _ Of course, it was all the more hilarious, seeing as how even in his suit, Tony still had to look up at Mercutio.

Mercutio met his gaze and said nothing.  Tony turned and looked back at the last of his passengers.  The figure stepped closer. Wrapped in leather, the figure had the curves of a woman, with the flag of Wakanda on her chest.  She raised her hand toward Mercutio's face, and red wisps floated around his head. She lowered her hand and turned to face Stark.

The mystery woman spoke then in a rolling, Eastern European accent.  “He is called Skurge the Executioner, and he is from Asgard.”

_ Skurge the Executioner? That is not a happy name _ , Darcy thought, her stomach dropping.  Something in Mercutio’s —  _ Skurge’s? _ — posture changed then. His eyes glanced over at Darcy’s shadowed hiding spot before looking away.  His shoulders slumped, though his head remained high.

_ Fuck, no wonder he didn’t give his name.   _

The mystery women moved closer to Stark and kept speaking in low tones.  Tony’s face paled, brow furrowing.

“Is that the Scarlet Witch?” Darcy whispered.

“I can’t confirm that,” Kwan replied.  “The Scarlet Witch is a wanted fugitive.  This person here is a person dressed in an outfit made out of Wakandan diplomatic pouches, so we are legally prohibited from looking under the mask.  It was the only way to get someone who could verify whatever the alien says.”

“Smart,” Darcy muttered.

“Okay, let’s roll before anyone tries to intercept us,” Stark said.  He gestured for Mer—  _ Skurge,  _ to go first, Stark’s security team carefully watching.  As Skurge walked outside, he cast one last glance back at Darcy.  From so far away, Darcy couldn’t read his expression, but she offered a tremulous smile and waved.  Skurge turned away and walked out into the cold, Stark’s security team following as they loaded up into the quinjet.  As Romero started to push the garage door closed, Darcy watched the quinjet take off and disappear into the night.


End file.
